The Birthday Present
by GraeLiars
Summary: Rose Weasley's birthday is on it's way to being fabulously uneventful until one Scorpius Malfoy decides to give her an innocent last minute gift that may not be as last minute or innocent as it appears.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello Lovelies! I'm baaaackkk! Anyways, finally another Scorpious-Rose fic after _Excuses _finished all those months ago. This is kinda like a prologue/set-up chapter so it's a bit 'blah'. Things will get better, so please don't desert me just yet :-)_

_This one's a bit up in the air and will probs take me quite a while to finish so don't expect me to be updating regularly. Especially now that college is back :(_

_A big thanks to all that reviewed any of my work - it is all very much appreciated and I love each and every one of you for taking the time to let me know your thoughts. And you know, I wouldn't mind if you reviewed again...like now for example :-)_

_Thank you and enjoy_

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><p>Rose Weasley's 24th birthday was going along the right track to be predictably uneventful. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, after all, Rose's birthdays stopped being eventful around fourth year, when everyone had accepted that she was generally more mature than most of the adults in her family and didn't like parties. Given that her birthday was at such an inconvenient time for everyone (October 31st – yes, she was born on Halloween) there wasn't usually anyone around to celebrate with her. Or if there was, they were actually celebrating Halloween with a quick 'Oh, and by the way, Happy Birthday Rose' thrown haphazardly on the end of a banner. Not that Rose minded – she <em>really<em> didn't like parties and was quite happy to just celebrate an unrelated occasion instead of congratulating herself on surviving another year. She was even more happy to let everyone else go and celebrate Halloween while she stayed at home with a good book or was simply left to herself to do something completely of her own choice. She liked having the occasional quiet time as it never happened often with a family such as hers. And there was no reason that this birthday should be any different – after all, 24 wasn't exactly a milestone. It was a nothing birthday, which meant it was even more acceptable for Rose to not have a party.

Excellent.

So her birthday was shaping up to be a quiet one in which she would go to work, leave early (like she always did on her birthday), go to the Burrow for afternoon tea with the family, then go home and curl up on the couch with a book and a mug of hot chocolate (the full fat, extra sugar, double fudge sort that she only allowed herself to drink on her birthday and at Christmas) and have a peaceful evening. She may or may not be accompanied by her 'boyfriend-when-its-convenient' Henry. As much as she knew she shouldn't, Rose was quite hoping Henry has some spectacular party he had been invited to as part of his work that he simply _must _attend so she wouldn't have to spend the evening with him, only the family afternoon tea. Normally afternoon tea on birthdays was reserved for people who were either born into or had officially married into the Weasley brood, but everyone made an exception for Henry because he was so exceptional.

He was the star Chaser of the Chudley Cannons and had almost single-handedly saved their season last year so it went without saying that her Father loved him. She may or may not have seen him kiss Henry's cheek when he successfully scored the winning goal just as the Snitch was caught to keep them in contention for the Cup. Henry was also very intelligent and passionate, traits her mother held in high regard. Upon meeting her the first time, he and Hermione had spoken for at least an hour about the new policy she was trying to pass and why it was pivotal that it was recognized officially by the Ministry (Rose wasn't sure what the policy had been about, something to do with House Elves no doubt). After that lengthy discussion, in which Henry had agreed with anything her mother had said and even added his own personal views on the subject, Hermione had fallen in love with the idea of having him as a son-in-law, even if she never explicitly said so. In the months that followed, Rose had diagnosed both her parents with 'Mentionitis' in which neither of them could stop mentioning Henry or asking question about him.

Of course he'd had no problem charming the rest of the family either – all the female members admired his charm and looks (that was the other thing – he was a tall, muscular, brunette with eyes of chocolate that could melt anything with a heartbeat), while the men all loved him for his athletic ability and overall 'manliness'. The only person who was her saving grace at family functions that didn't fawn over her boyfriend-when-its-convenient was her Uncle Harry.

Harry had been impressed with Henry, but as soon as he managed to excuse himself, Harry had sort out Rose (who was sitting alone outside) to have a quiet moment or two with her.

"He's quite the talker isn't he?" he commented with a knowing smile. Rose picked up on the hidden meaning and nodded softly, a little put-out at the time by the way her family was more in love with her boyfriend than they were with her.

"I'm sure he could talk for hours about anything even remotely related to himself," Harry had said as he sipped a cup of tea, overlooking the grounds of the Burrow through his trademark round glasses. Rose smiled up at him and laughed under her breath. Harry had put a hand on her shoulder and had smiled down at her with eyes she had never seen hold malice.

"How about we leave the rest of them to fall over their feet trying to kiss his and go and have a nice quiet game of chess?"

Never, in her entire life, had Rose ever loved her uncle more. They had spent the next 2 hours playing chess until the rest of the family remembered the two of them existed.

Rose didn't resent Henry for being loved by her family. She couldn't resent him because she felt so indifferently about him. He was a great person, totally arrogant but she supposed that sometimes came with greatness, and was wanted by thousands of women around the country if not the world. He was exactly the type of boy she should bring home to meet her family so she had, even though they weren't strictly speaking 'dating'. They hung out, they snogged, and occasionally shagged, but they still didn't label anything. He said it was difficult for him to be in a relationship with someone when he was forced to dedicate so much time to The Team (he said it that same way a gangster might say 'The Family') and that it wouldn't be fair on _her_ if he were to tell her he could commit to something when he knew he really couldn't.

That hadn't bothered her at all – she didn't really want him to commit to her, and she didn't really want to commit to him. But it was nice sort of having someone there. So they kept up their 'not-a-relationship' thing and enjoyed each other's company when they had the time to share it. But she wasn't expecting him to make any time for her on her birthday and that was more than fine with her.

So as Rose packed up her desk early just like every birthday, the only question still floating around in her head about what the night ahead held was which book she was going to read whilst feasting on deliciously calorie-packed hot chocolate. She finished placing a few miscellaneous items in her bag before throwing it over her shoulder and heading out.

"Happy Birthday Rose," Arrabella Argenforg called on her way past Rose's office door.

"Thank-you!" she replied with a smile. With Arrabella's well wishes, that meant that everyone on the floor had spared a few minutes to say happy birthday to her today.

All except Scorpius Malfoy.

Rose thought this was more than a little odd. It wasn't as if they were enemies: on the contrary, Rose and Scorpius got on quite well. They were polite to one another, showing a sort of mutual respect for each others' abilities, and found it refreshing that they could share an insightful and intellectual conversation with one another. Working together closely on several cases wasn't an issue; Rose was pleasantly surprised to find that Scorpius was extremely organized and dedicated to his work. In fact, comparatively, it was Rose that was the slob, continuously leaving her notes and half-written parchments strewn around her office where Scorpius' were perfectly piled in neat little piles in various trays on his desk. But they worked well together – being part of the Department of International Magic Cooperation they were in charge of making sure things between countries and interest groups remained friendly which meant schmoozing a lot and charming people, something Scorpius was _very_ good at. He was probably the only person in the known universe who could give Henry a run for his money. And being the daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, not to mention the niece of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, meant that usually people were more than happy to oblige Rose. They worked perfectly together, and had been nothing less than civil throughout their many joint assignments.

And they did flirt with each other. Constantly. It was playful and harmless – they both knew it. It was just two almost-friends having a bit of a laugh with the other. It didn't matter if either of them were attached or not because they each knew that it didn't mean anything and therefore no one had anything to worry about. Scorpius often greeted her with what could only be described as a pick-up line, and she would often wink at him over her shoulder when they parted. They engaged in what most would consider banter and there was even the occasional circumstance when he'd kiss her hand with a smirk or pull her close to side-long apparate to international meetings when Rose was perfectly capable of apparating by herself. But it didn't mean anything, it was just two people who got along very well.

Then there was one time that her and Scorpius had gotten on a little too well.

It had been about a month ago, one Friday night after work. Rose had had plans with Henry but he'd had to cancel due to other 'Team Things' coming up unexpectedly (read: drinks at a very exclusive club filled with overly accommodating ladies in very short robes.). Rose decided to go out to a bar and drown her supposed sorrows at being pushed aside for younger, prettier versions of herself, only to discover that she really didn't care what Henry did with his time. So Rose had found herself in a bar she had never seen before in her life in a very quiet and secluded part of muggle London, not very drunk at all, enjoying the music and being away from anyone who was likely to recognize her as anyone of any importance.

To say she was surprised to see Scorpius Malfoy sit down beside her would have been the understatement of the century.

He had opened with some particularly cheesy line as he slid on to the bar stool beside her, questioning why she was here all on her lonesome.

"Plans fell through," she answered with a shrug, "Thought I'd have a quiet drink by myself."

He smirked as he ordered two alcoholic beverages she thought she heard him called 'ciders' and pull out some muggle money.

"Which roughly translates as you got stood up and are drowning your sorrows," he took a sip of one drink and slid the other towards her.

"No," she defended, although she realized, as she accepted his drink without argument, it kind of was the truth, "I'm not sad I got stood up – I honestly don't give a damn what Henry does with his time – it just means that the plans I did have I don't have anymore. So I needed to fill in time."

He paused as he wrapped his head around what was apparently, for a man such as Scorpius, a baffling issue.

"So you came to a tiny pub in muggle London because you didn't have anything else to do on a Friday night when your plans with a man you don't care about fell through?" he had an eyebrow raised and she could tell he was trying to make her feel like an idiot.

"Yes," she answered with a nod as she took a sip of her drink, "I'd just be bored at home."

Scorpius laughed as he raised his own glass.

"You _really_ need a hobby."

He smirked when she scowled at him before taking a large swig of his drink. They eventually moved from the bar to a little booth at the back of the pub where they had engaged in more banter, more flirting, and more drinking. Rose remembered thinking that in the lack of light his hair was kind of like a beacon that continued to shine regardless, and that his silver eyes were quite pretty. Alluring almost. And his cologne was sort of magnetic in the way it drew her closer and closer along the bench towards him until they were right next to each other. And that his voice had a nice velvety quality to it that she hadn't allowed herself to notice before.

Over the course of several hours it had all rolled into one big ole ball of spontaneity and carelessness that had led Rose to thinking it was perfectly acceptable for her to kiss her work colleague in the corner of the some little Muggle Pub. She wasn't alone though, as Scorpius apparently thought it entirely acceptable to practically pull her into his lap and snog her senseless as well. Deciding that a Muggle Pub was probably not the best spot for what they both had in mind, they had somehow managed to stumble out of the pub locked around each other before making their way down a little dank alleyway and apparating to Scorpius' apartment. From there it was all kind of hazy. All that she really remembered with any sort of clarity was lying on his bed, half naked already and snogging Scorpius and moaning relentlessly. In amongst the grinding and groaning, he mumbled something against her neck.

"Mine," he said softly with a surprising amount of conviction. Rose had made some non-committal noise (most likely a moan) in response, much too preoccupied with imminent sex to be bothered with talking.

Then he stopped.

Completely stopped. Not a muscle moved. Her eyes snapped open to look at him, only finding him staring down at her with an odd ferocity.

"_Mine_."

She hadn't really known what he was talking about, after all, she was all kinds of _distracted_ at present. But he seemed worried, a little afraid even. Desperate. And the way he had looked at her had stirred something and suddenly she knew. He was talking about her. He wanted her to be his.

Well, she was half way (ok, more than half way) to fucking him and he felt the need to clarify now? Like snogging him in a bar and allowing him to remove her clothes (in record time) wasn't enough of a give way? She cursed him silently and tried her best to be angry. Then she saw how scared he was and decided to be compassionate instead. Through the haze, she had removed on of her hands from his person and reached out for where his hand was gripping the mattress somewhere above her head. He followed the path her hand made with his eyes, locking their fingers together when they met. Rose, thinking this was a great idea at the time due to the amount of alcohol she had in her system, had leant up and kissed him with a sincerity that surprised Scorpius and herself alike. She then moved her lips to his ear and breathed just loud enough for him to hear.

"_Yours_."

And suddenly he was moving again, and so was she, and the few layers they still had on had disappeared and it all ended in a crescendo of moaning and gasping and most likely some expletives. He didn't let go of her hand throughout.

Thoroughly exhausted, Rose had fallen asleep practically straight away. When she awoke the next morning she had a killer hangover, more than a little attack of the guilts (though not as much as she probably should, but then she remembered her and Henry weren't even really dating so therefore it wasn't really cheating. And she was 95% sure he had slept with someone else during their….whatever this thing between the two of them was) and a snoring Scorpius Malfoy wrapped around her. She had very carefully removed herself from the scene quickly and quietly, and had apparated back to her apartment where she had promptly showered and went back to sleep for several hours. Rose had been more than a little worried about going in to work on Monday for fear of having to face Scorpius, but it appeared he didn't remember. Or if he did he had the decency not to say anything about it. They went back to flirting with each other constantly; he would still kiss her hand and seemed to feel the need to stand a lot closer to her than was considered appropriate for a working relationship, and she winked at him a lot and blew him sarcastic kisses when he said something provocative. It was all back to normal.

Or at least it _had been_. Until Rose's 24th birthday. Then it got a lot more complicated.

She should have just kept walking. She really should have just kept walking and just accepted the fact that Scorpius didn't want to say Happy Birthday to her. But, for reasons she couldn't and wouldn't allow herself to understand, it hurt a little that he didn't remember it was her birthday. He had remembered in previous years. And she had told him not two days ago that she wouldn't be attending the Ministry Halloween Gala because it was her birthday. He _knew_. She knew he knew. And he still hadn't said anything. Maybe he just hadn't had time to come and see her. Maybe that was it. He just couldn't make time. Well, she'd give him the perfect opportunity.

As Rose walked past his office on her way out, she poked her head in the door and saw him writing elegantly across the page. That note was probably telling someone to get their arse into gear and stop being a tosser and yet he still looked calm and elegant and _graceful_. Whenever Rose wrote a note like that her face screwed up as she mimed her fury-filled words. He had commented on it often. It wasn't her fault – not everyone could achieve the bored expressionlessness that he could.

"Good night!" she called with a smile, to which his head snapped up to look at her, confusion and intrigue etched into his features, "See you Monday."

He raised an eyebrow and vanished the letter he had been writing with a flick of his wrist.

"Good night?" he questioned, a smirk starting to make its way up his cheek.

"Yep," she shrugged with a smile, "I'm heading to the Burrow for afternoon tea."

She watched his face light up in shock and amusement as he began to strut towards her.

"Do my ears deceive me?" he questioned jokingly as he leant against the front of his desk, "Is good little Rose Weasley, former Miss Head Girl herself, actually _leaving work early?"_

Rose gave him a look and flicked her hair over her shoulder flippantly.

"Yes," she exaggerated, "Just like always."

"Always?" he tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked towards her again, "Since when do you make a habit of sneaking out?"

Rose took a few steps forwards, also crossing her arms, to meet him half way across his office.

"I've been doing it since I started," she shrugged and laughed a little at the utterly shocked and slightly impressed expression that crossed Scorpius' face.

"You know Weasley," he said moving forward until he was barely a step from her, "As a concerned and dedicated co-worker, it's my responsibility to report such mischief and mayhem."

"I'll hardly be causing mayhem, Scorpius," she rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that graced her features.

"That's what they all say!" he countered, thoroughly enjoying himself apparently, "It always starts as an early night then BAM! You're rocking up to work in your pajamas without brushing your teeth!"

He smiled down at her with a genuine smile that almost knocked the air out of her lungs. It would have had she not developed a tolerance to it during their months of tireless carefree flirting.

"Come on Scorpius," she said with a smile, her voice sincere, "Cut a girl some slack on her birthday."

His face dropped slightly and he looked at her strangely, clearly confused.

"Birthday?" he asked, as if going over the facts in his head.

"Birthday," Rose nodded and tried not to feel a too upset at the fact that he had actually forgotten.

"Twenty-three?" he asked, obviously guessing her age. How he could have got _that_ wrong was just beyond her – they were the same bloody age!

"No," she said with a slight chuckle, "That would have been last year – when you remembered may I add."

"I did?" he seemed rightfully shocked.

"Yes!" Rose smiled up at his adorably confused face, "You wished me happy birthday first thing in the morning."

"I did, hmmm?" he asked with the signature smirk, "Treasure the memories of us together do you Weasley?"

Rose felt like there was something buried sneakily under that statement, but chose to ignore it, laughing it off.

"Oh yes Malfoy," she said dramatically, "I only wish I could create a pensive of every moment I am in your company so I could relive them over and over again."

"You know I find sarcasm is a dreadfully unattractive trait in a woman," he offered with that charming smirk of his.

"Then it's lucky I'm not trying to attract you, isn't it Malfoy?" that may have been a tiny lie, but she was sure he hadn't picked up on it. He laughed heartily, throwing his head back as another gloriously genuine smile filled his features. Rose merely smiled back politely, hoping to escape quickly – she felt a little put out by him not remembering. But then she did like spending time in Scorpius' company. And he knew _now_.

"So," he looked back to her eyes, "Twenty-four 'eh? Little Rosie Weasley getting old."

"Don't call me Rosie," she responded almost reflexively to which he simply smiled again.

"Right," he continued regardless, "So have you enjoyed your day?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I've had a lovely day thank you. I've been very spoilt."

He quirked another eyebrow and looked confused again.

"Spoilt?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Mum and dad got me wonderful gifts as always, as did the rest of the extended family. Really, I don't think I've got enough space in my house for them all."

Scorpius' face dropped and he looked slightly uneasy as he dragged one of his hands through his hair.

"I didn't get you anything," he said bluntly.

"I didn't expect you to," she answered just as abruptly.

"I probably should have," he shrugged and started fidgeting in his pockets, "Its kind of customary."

His eyebrows suddenly shot up as he located something in his pocket. He retrieved a small ring and looked at it curiously.

"What the -?" Scorpius seemed completely bewildered by the ring's existence, which Rose found odd seeing as it was in _his_ pocket after all. He glanced up at her then back to the ring in his fingers. His face lit up and he looked decidedly like an excited first year.

"Here," he said holding out to her, "You can have this."

"That really isn't necessary," Rose said with a gentle smile. He thrust it toward her again.

"Go on, take it."

Rose crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Scorpius I'm not taking that from you just so you don't feel guilty."

"I don't feel guilty," Scorpius shrugged and looked at the ring with repugnance, "I just really want to get rid of this old thing and you present the perfect opportunity."

"Well gee," she rolled her eyes and jutted out her left hip, "Don't I feel special?"

"Would you prefer I guilt-trip you?" he said as he smirked at her and leant forward, pushing the ring closer to her face.

"No."

"Then just take the bloody ring Rose," he was getting a little touchy, that much as obvious, "Really; I've out grown it."

"So I get your rejects?"

"No, you get my hand-me-downs. There's a difference. "

She snorted and threw him an expression that said 'Don't give me that shit'.

"And what would Scorpius Malfoy know about hand-me-downs?"

"Very little, as this is the only one I've ever received," he looked at the ring with an upturned nose and sneered at it, "I wouldn't electively own _this_."

"Now you're making me feel sorry for the ring."

His eyes lit up and a hopeful smile spread across his features.

"So does that mean you'll take it?"

"No," Rose stepped back slightly, figuring that if she distanced herself from him than he wouldn't be so damn persuasive, "It's not my place to take it from you."

"You're not taking it," he advanced on her, "I'm giving it to you."

"I'm not taking that ring," she said with as much defiance as she could manage. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her with mock authority.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you that it was rude to reject people's gifts?"

"This wasn't supposed to be a gift for me though; that makes it different."

He sighed and looked thoroughly annoyed.

"Just take it Rose, _please_ – I don't want it."

"I'm not taking it Scorpius," she said with conviction as she looked him in the eye.

"I was planning on pawning it off in Diagon Alley somewhere after work tonight – if you take it at least I know you'll look after it."

Rose allowed herself to look at the small silver ring closely for the first time. It had a large green jewel in the center of it and the band was curved and engraved in the most beautiful pattern. There were little stones of onyx lining the emerald in the middle, giving it an edgy quality that she liked. Really, how could someone 'out grow' something that looked so very pretty? Rose apprehensively took the ring.

"Are you sure you don't want it?" she asked cautiously, admiring it some more in different lights, "It's really very pretty."

He snorted. Apparently the ring was not meant to be 'pretty'.

Then, quick as lightening, Scorpius captured one of her hands and forced the ring into her palm. He closed his fingers over her own so she had no choice but to clasp the piece of jewelry.

"I'm positive," he said with finality before removing his hand from hers. Rose opened her hand and looked down at the ring in her hand. It really was very pret…._stunning. _She smiled and slid it onto her middle finger. Scorpius let out a dramatic sigh, tsk-ed at her, and reclaimed her hand in his own once more.

"It goes on your _ring finger_ Rose," he removed it from her middle finger and slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand. Rose felt it shrink to fit her finger perfectly and then examined it. She didn't care if it wasn't meant to be pretty – that's what it was. It was pretty and stunning and imposing and somehow her hand now looked and felt important with it on.

Scorpius was still holding her hand and staring down at the ring where it sat around her finger. He smiled to himself, something flashing in his eyes.

"Perfect," he murmured softly. Rose, too wrapped up in how stunning the trinket was simply nodded and examined it from different angles by twisting her hand.

"Yeah," she agreed, "I'm sure it looks much better on me then it ever did on you."

Scorpius gave a low chuckle and ran his thumb over her finger and the ring in a gesture that felt a little too intimate for her liking, but she put it down to him just playing their little game. He smirked once more to himself before letting go of her hand.

"Happy Birthday Rose," he said, looking to her eyes, which were still focused on the ring. She looked up when she heard her name and smiled.

"Thank-you, Scorpius," she beamed, figuring that being giving her such a pretty ring made up for the fact that he hadn't really remembered her birthday, "And thank you for the very lovely, although totally unnecessary gift."

They stood there, just looking at each other and smiling for a few moments. Rose was put off by the fact that Scorpius seemed to be smirking again – that look very rarely meant good things for her. She held his gaze for a moment longer than was probably considered appropriate, secretly reassuring herself that this was a perfectly acceptable exchange of gifts between work colleagues and friends. After all, he didn't even want it. And she would take care of it. Rose animatedly looked to her watch to break the tension.

"Well I have to get back to sneaking out of the office," she said with a cheeky grin as she turned back to open the portrait hole, "Don't work too hard without me!"

She heard him chuckle as she walked out of his office with a spring in her step. As she strode towards the fireplaces to floo to the Burrow, Rose felt considerably happier about this whole birthday situation. Her hand was graced with a stunning trinket that looked perfect on her finger, her calorie-pumped hot chocolate was waiting for her at home, and the chances of her having to listen to Henry talk about himself for the entire evening were slim. Yes, Rose Weasley's 24th birthday was shaping up to be deliciously and perfectly uneventful.

How wrong she was.

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><p><em>Bum bum buuuuuum! Anyhow...please review (OMG that rhymes! haha...sorry, i need sleep) :-)<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello Lovelies! Chappie two is here! Its a little all over the joint because i wrote different bits at different times and the ending's a bit rushed, but this is going to be the last chance i get to update for a while so i just wanted to get it out there._

_Reviewers, I love you. Each and every one of you. Hugs and kisses to all! And all you people that favourite-ed after the first chapter - I both envy and enjoy your blind optimism. Hugs and kisses to all of you too :)_

_Disclaimed: None of these characters are mine (SURPRISE SURPRISE!), but i still love them all the same._

_Enjoy! (And review, cough)_

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><p>As Rose stepped out of the upstairs fireplace at the Burrow her senses were immediately bombarded with an array of sensations she came to simply define as '<em>Weasley'<em>. It was the smell of freshly baked food, the warmth of the oven that seeped through the house, the sound of laughter and energetic chatter, and the sight of odd furniture that would have looked totally out of place anywhere else except the Burrow. Instead it all felt right. _Homey. _Like love. Yes, that was it. The Burrow just smelt and felt like love.

She didn't know why, but Rose liked to floo to the upstairs, rarely used fireplace rather than the one in the main living room. She liked the subtle entry, the sneaky way in. For reasons she couldn't really define, Rose just didn't like to be the centre of attention. Not even on her birthday. But that didn't change the fact that she couldn't wait to show off her newest birthday present. It was silly really – she was 24 now and far above shameless gloating and bragging about getting a shiny new toy.

But this wasn't a toy. It was a ring. And a very pretty one at that. And she hadn't gloated or bragged or even had a party in a solid ten years – she was allowed to gloat this one time.

So when Lily came bounding into the room wearing one of her new extremely pretty, though perhaps not entirely family-friendly dresses, Rose decided to make somewhat of a big deal removing her gloves.

"Happy Birthday Rose!" Lily exclaimed excitedly as she embraced her older relative with an enthusiastic squeal.

Lily was really a lovely girl, Rose thought with some semblance of disappointment. She was the kind of girl that you really wanted to hate – stunningly gorgeous, body to die for, and able to turn heads whenever she entered the room. Her hair was the traditional Weasley red and was so long and shiny and straight that it almost hurt Rose's eyes to look at it too long. She was a renowned party guest, not to mention quite popular with the fellas (Rose had a sneaking suspicion that Henry had only really started seeing her because Lily had been unattainable). She could make a hessian sack look alluring. In fact she had come as a scarecrow to a muggle-themed dress-up party once and for the month following, every Tom, Dick and Harry (except of course her father) was convinced that flannelette t-shirts and daggy old overalls were a season trend.

Yes, Lily Potter was _that_ girl and Rose would have liked very much to hate her a tiny bit. But she simply couldn't. And it wasn't because she was family. It was because she was so damn nice. Her smiles were very rarely fake, her laughter was never anything but genuine, and although she had all the means and ability to be little more than a self-absorbed socialite (the girl was the stunning daughter of _Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley_ for crying out loud), she exceeded expectations to become one of the most admirable and truly beautiful girls Rose ever knew. Lily, in all honesty, probably didn't even realize her dress was quite short – she would have simply picked it out because she liked the colour. And really, it did look very pretty.

But not as pretty as Rose's new ring. And she would be sure to make a point of proving so.

"Thank-you Lily," Rose said with a smile as she was released from the near-death grip that her cousin had had on her. She then immediately took off her left glove quite animatedly as Lily began to speak.

"So?" Lily said with shiny eyes that were so full of excitement anyone would think it was her 6th birthday rather than Rose's 24th, "Any birthday surprises for you at work?"

"Um…" Rose bit her lip and silently thanked any heavenly body listening for the perfect opportunity, "No…not really."

Then, perfectly timed like on all those muggle commercials for hair products Grandpa Weasley was so fascinated by, Rose dragged her left hand – with ring – through her hair slowly. Lily glanced at her hand distractedly then went back to Rose's eyes. Before her eyes bulged as she registered what she had just seen.

With a loud gasp and a surprisingly strong tug, Lily claimed Rose's hand and pulled it directly under her nose.

"Oh. My. Merlin!" she exclaimed with a look of utter shock. Rose smiled victoriously to herself – this was just the sort of response she was hoping for.

"You're ENGAGED!" Lily squealed and wrapped her arms around Rose once more, "Henry proposed on your birthday! That's _soooo_ romantic! Eeeeee!"

Lily then spun Rose around and started babbling and giggling relentlessly. Ok, so maybe this wasn't _exactly_ the response she wanted.

"What? No, no I'm not engaged!" Rose tried to breathe but it was difficult given how tight Lily was holding her. Lily didn't appear to have heard, instead she just kept spinning Rose round and round and blabbering about how beautiful the wedding will be. Mid-spin, she caught sight of Albus trying to sneak down the hallway with a muffin he had somehow managed to get out of the kitchen hidden in a teacup without Grandma Molly spying. Cleverly, he was trying to destroy the evidence by inhaling the baked good whole.

"Albi!" Lily ushered Albus, who, looking insanely suspicious and guilty, immediately hid the remaining muffin behind his back, "Albi come look! Rose is _engaged!_"

"What?" Albus damn near choked on the half a muffin he had forced into his mouth. Rose sighed and shook her head softly.

"No," she corrected, "I'm not engaged. This is just a ring between friends…"

"Oh puh-lease!" Lily exclaimed and hit Rose playfully on the shoulder as Albus walked towards them, "He may not have got down on one knee but Henry's intentions are clear."

"Actually it wasn't –"

The shattering of china stopped Rose from explaining that the ring wasn't actually from Henry. Lily gasped and turned to see Albus, who had dropped his teacup and half a muffin, staring at Rose's hand. He pointed at the decorated finger and gaped for several seconds.

"Wha…?" was all he could manage. Really, it was pretty, but enough to render someone – no not just 'someone' _Albus – _speechless? Rose was getting a little concerned. Lily wasn't.

"I know!" she exclaimed, looking back at Rose's hand which she still held in her own, "Isn't it just gorgeous?"

Albus' gaze moved from the ring to Rose's eyes. She immediately knew something was wrong. His left eye was twitching and his mouth was still gaping. He looked shocked. And a little angry.

"What…" he paused and swallowed, "What the fuck is this?"

"Albus!" Lily chided. Rose worried. She took her hand out of Lily's grasp and rubbed her other hand over it, pointlessly trying to cover the ring.

"I don't know what you mean…" she began to defend herself before Albus cut her off.

"The hell you don't!" he snapped, taking a backwards step and putting his hands on his hips in a gesture he surely inherited from every female Weasley in existence, "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Albus!" Lily looked at him as if he had sprouted an extra, rather disgusting appendage, "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_?" he questioned, now pointing to Rose, "What the fuck is wrong with _her_?"

For a man who was raised by a father who tended to say 'spite' instead of shit, Albus sure said 'fuck' a lot.

"Merlin Albus!" Rose muttered, now more than a little worried, "It's just a ring. It doesn't mean anything."

"Doesn't mean anything?" Albus looked at her incredulously, "Like hell it doesn't!"

Then he said ten little words that had her well and truly scared.

"What the fuck are you doing wearing the Malfoy Ring?"

The Malfoy Ring.

Not _A_ Malfoy Ring.

Not Malfoy'_s_ Ring.

_The _Malfoy Ring.

Rose suddenly felt a little ill. Desperate to deny any allegations laced into Albus' observation, Rose looked back at the ring.

"No. It's not The Malfoy Ring…It's just some old thing Scorpius had lying around…"

"_Scorpius?_" Albus questioned with raised eyebrows. Even Lily looked a little surprised. Rose internally cursed herself for letting it slip – around family members he was always 'Malfoy', never anything more personal. Like Scorpius for example.

"You mean Scorpius Malfoy," Lily said slowly as if she were trying to get her own head around the words as they left her mouth, "Not Henry gave you the ring?"

Rose smiled guiltily at Lily to which Albus swore once more. More than a little angry at his obvious disapproval, she turned to face him with a scowl.

"_Malfoy_," Rose said with emphasis, "Was going to pawn it off at Diagon Alley so he gave it to me instead – it's no big deal."

"No big-!" Albus ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "Malfoy gave you a ring, Rose! And it's his family's ring!"

"No it's not. It can't be…I'm not a Malfoy…" she finished lamely with a shake of her head.

"But a Malfoy – _the only living Malfoy heir_ – gave it to you!" Albus said quite haughtily; Rose thought he quite looked in need of a decent punch to the face, "He's marking his territory. Its like he just lifted his leg and pissed all over you."

"That's fowl," Lily sad with disgust, her nose screwed up in a disapproving scowl.

"That's Malfoy," Albus countered with a smirk. Albus had a special kind of jealous hatred for Scorpius ever since he got Quidditch Captain in seventh year – a title Albus had been desperately hoping to get his hands on ever since he first picked up a broomstick. The fact that the two of them had been nothing but civil to each other before that was irrelevant – Scorpius had supposedly stolen the title from him, so he would be forever despised by Albus. Hence his incredible distrust and disapproval of the 'Malfoy Spawn', as Rose's father had so affectionately named him.

Despite all his hatred for Scorpius, Albus appeared to be enjoying himself and Rose's misfortune quite a lot by the smarmy smirk plastered across his features. Rose definitely wanted to punch him in the face. Or his balls, depending on how good his present was.

"That's ridiculous!" she cried, finally freeing herself from her irrational conclusions she had leapt to, "This is not The Malfoy Ring."

"Yes it is."

"And how would you know?" she crossed her arms and raised a challenging eyebrow. Albus mimicked her actions and nodded towards the ring.

"His dad (Rose momentarily pondered the idea of anyone calling Mr. Draco Malfoy 'Dad'. It seemed odd) gave it to him the start of Seventh Year," Albus shrugged, "He was practically parading it around the Common Room for the first week and a half of term."

Rose looked down at the troublesome trinket adorning her finger, taking in more detail than before. Previously she had been distracted by the beautiful jewel in the middle, but there was so much more to it. Like the fact that the jewel was the clearest, deepest green she had ever seen – clearly the purest of jewels (not unlike the Malfoy bloodline). And that the band was thicker than what was perhaps considered customary for a female ring – it was clearly meant for a male finger. And that pretty engraving she had thought of as being almost vine-like before wasn't vine-like at all. It was _serpentine._ The damn band was a freaking snake.

The ring just _screamed_ 'Malfoy'. And it was on her finger.

Fuck.

She decided to redirect her anger to her cousin who was still looking haughty and pigheaded and annoying and…and…stupid. Yeah. Stupid.

"Yet another story from deep within enemy territory, hey Severus?" Rose snapped, perhaps taking a cheap trick at pointing out to Albus once more that he was the only of the combined 'Golden Trio's' children to be sorted into a house other than Gryffindor. But given his smirk and overall amusement at her situation, Rose thought he both deserved to be in Slytherin and to have it pointed out to him. Stupid git.

Albus simply rolled his eyes. "That stopped being offensive after first year, Rosie."

"Don't call me Rosie."

"Don't change the subject!" Lily interjected, "We need to stay on track. Rose, why on Earth are you wearing The Malfoy Ring on your finger?"

"I didn't know it was The Malfoy Ring!" she defended, silently amazed that no one else had heard them arguing like this, "If I had I never would have accepted it."

"It's still a ring from Scorpius Malfoy, Rose," Albus said, with an odd expression and in a surprisingly un-scathing tone, "Why the fuck would you accept it in the first place?"

"It's just a ring between friends."

Albus scoffed and turned away for a moment to compose himself. Lily put her hand on Rose's shoulder and began to speak to her as if she were a child.

"A man _never_ gives a woman a ring just as friends, Rose," she said softly with an almost apologetic smile, "Earrings? Yes. A necklace? Perhaps. But a ring? A ring always means business. A ring means commitment. Dedication. Ownership."

"But it-!"

"Face it Rose," Albus said with a shrug, "You've been marked. Scorpius Malfoy has marked you as _his._"

Rose ran over their earlier conversation when he forced the ring on her over and over. One part stuck clearly and painfully in her mind.

_The only hand-me-down he'd ever received._

It wasn't a hand-me-down; it was his inheritance. His birthright. And he had pawned it off to her as some sentiment-less piece of tin.

That sneaky Slytherin rat bastard.

"Bastard!" she cursed under her breath.

"Glad you figured that out before you married him," Albus said with a giggle. Apparently he was able to overlook his hatred for the man to appreciate just how cunning and Slytherin-like he had been in this whole fiasco.

"You are not helping the situation _Albus_," Lily said in perfectly annunciated sharp tones. Rose could have sworn that in that moment her little cousin was like the perfect mix of Ginny Weasley's authority and Hermione Granger's freakish calm rolled into one. It was truly terrifying. Rose was very happy she wasn't Albus. Although if she was Albus she wouldn't have to be explaining how exactly she managed to accept a ring from Scorpius Malfoy. Maybe being Albus wouldn't be so bad. She could even put up with hair even less tamable than her own.

This was ridiculous. It was a ring, not a tattoo. This whole situation could be easily settled before anyone else had to find out. All she had to do was take off the ring, put it in her pocket, and give it back to him on Monday.

Simple.

"Look!" Rose interrupted Lily and Albus' fierce staring contest, "This is a simple fix. I'll just take off the ring and give it back to Malfoy on Monday, ok? No need for anyone to start casting Unforgivables on anyone else. Merlin."

Rose rolled her eyes at her cousins who were still shooting hostile glances at each other every so often as she began to tug the ring off her finger.

It didn't move.

Not an inch.

Rose tugged again and again – nothing. It didn't budge a millimeter; it just stubbornly stayed there looking a lot less pretty than it had a few moments ago. Rose bit her lip and tried to wake herself from what she desperately hoped was a terrible dream.

She looked up at the expectant eyes of her cousins. "It won't move."

They gaped in unison. "What?"

"The ring!" Rose desperately tugged at the trinket to the point of causing pain, "It's stuck on my finger!"

Albus rolled his eyes and swore _again_ while Lily shook her head in a confident denial.

"There's no need to panic," she said assuredly as she reached for her wand, "We'll just enlarge and it will slip right off. No need to panic."

Albus ran a hand through his hair and then choked out a laugh. Lily scowled at him once more before tapping her wand to the ring with trembled with Rose's hand. She murmured an incantation as watched the ring glow. It buzzed for a moment and seemed to vibrate – as if it was trying really hard to grow (or trying equally hard to stay small…) – and then…

Nothing.

It just stayed its regular size and reflected light with what Rose now considered an arrogant kind of shine. Lily's brow furrowed at the ring before she tried the spell again. And again – nothing.

"Lily?" Rose asked desperately, "What's happening?"

The younger girl kept staring at the ring with a frustrated bewilderment, "Um…"

"No!" Rose snatched her hand back and looked at the stupid little piece of tin attached to it, "No, no, no! This cannot be happening!"

"That's a very powerful charm," Lily pondering thoughtfully, "Probably old magic."

"Probably use to snag all the previous Malfoy brides," Albus commented as he launched himself backwards onto the couch, apparently finding the entire situation quite humorous now.

"Not. Helping. ALBUS!" Rose shrieked and she continued to tug futilely on the ring again.

"I don't think I can do anything about this, Rose," Lily winced a little and grimaced apologetically, "That ring is stuck."

"You don't say!" she snapped finally giving up trying to pull it off – clearly the little ring was just as annoyingly stubborn as Malfoy himself. Twat. Rose dropped her shoulders and sighed loudly. This was not how her birthday was supposed to go – she was supposed to only have to be here for a very short amount of time before going home to her book and her hot chocolate. That was it. Nothing else. No chatting on end with Grandma Molly about when she planned to start a family. No discussing the problems facing House Elves today with her mother. No talk of Quidditch she didn't give a fuck about with her father or uncles. No talk of Henry with Henry. And there certainly wasn't supposed to be any getting ticked by Malfoy into wearing his damn family ring. That was most certainly not supposed to happen on her birthday. Or any other day for that matter. This wasn't supposed to happen at all.

Rose walked dazedly over to the couch where Albus had taken up residency, dropping down heavily into the seat next to him.

"What am I going to do?" she asked to anyone who cared to listen and provide an answer, "How the hell am I supposed to eat afternoon tea with everyone when I'm wearing the bloody Malfoy bloody family ring?"

"We could try concealing it," Lily offered as she came to sit on the other side of Rose on the large, battered piece of furniture, "No one would ever know."

Rose shrugged and held her hand out Lily. The younger girl tapped her wand to it and whispered an incantation that Rose couldn't hear properly. Then, as surely as she was breathing, the ring began to fade before it disappeared completely. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't think there was anything there except Rose's finger. But Rose _did_ know better. And she could still feel the annoying little trinket sitting there, silently gloating at her just like Scorpius would be. It was smirking. She could just _feel_ it.

"Brilliant!" Lily said happily as she tucked her wand away.

"Problem sovled," Albus added with an unenthusiastic smile.

"No - problem not solved! The ring is still there, even though you can't see it," Rose sighed dejectedly, "I can't very well put a concealment charm on my finger for the rest of my life."

"No," Albus shrugged, "Just till you see Scorpius next."

"I can't have it the entire weekend!" Rose exclaimed slightly hysterically, "Who knows how many times I'll see the family. What if I bump into one of them, or dad decides to make a surprise call tomorrow morning and sees it?"

"Your dad won't be coming over tomorrow," Albus said as he levitated the half a muffin he dropped back into his possession, "All our parents have that Ministry Halloween Gala Function thing like they do every year. Uncle Ron never gets up early after one of those things – you know what he's like the morning after he's been drinking…"

Rose nodded empathetically, remembering the many times they had been banned from waking their father before midday after certain Ministry functions – the Halloween Function especially as it was the biggest party on the calendar.

Albus had the muffin half way in his mouth when his eyes shot open wide.

Lily, noticing her brother's sudden odd (well, more odd than usual) behaviour, questioned him about it. "What?"

"The Ministry Function," he said beaming as he turned to face the girls, "Malfoy will be there, right? As a representative or something?"

"Won't his parents be going?" Lily questioned, taking little interest.

"No, they're holidaying in Poland for the Autumn – they won't be back until December," ok, how the hell did Rose know that?

"So he'll be taking their place right?" Albus pushed with wide eyes, "At the Halloween thing."

Rose shrugged – he had told her he was attending, hadn't he? Because he'd asked her whether she'd be attending or not, and she had told him she wasn't because it was her birthday. Which he forgot anyway. Stupid rat bastard.

"Go tonight then," Albus said as if it were painfully simple.

Rose rolled her eyes at her cousin's ignorance.

"Oh and I'll just wear that ball-gown I've had stashed away all these years waiting for such an occasion, shall I?" sarcasm practically dripped from her words, "Really Albus – one does not simply walk into the Ministry Halloween Function wearing sweats."

"You could borrow one of your mum's – she has some nice ones."

It was in that moment that Rose suddenly understood why Albus did not have a girlfriend. For a boy who would suggest that a girl should wear her _mother's_ robes – thus implying that they would fit her similarly well as a woman more than twenty years her senior who had popped out a kid or two – was very obvious lacking in the skills necessary to pursue a woman for any length of time.

Lily hit Albus hard on his arm and rolled her eyes.

"For Merlin's sake Albus!" she said in hushed tones, "A girl cannot wear her mother's robes in public! It simply isn't done."

Lily flicked her perfectly straight hair over her shoulder in such an effortless manner that Rose found herself being jealous of her cousin once more. She wished that just for one night her hair would be as obediently flawless as Lily's to flick in such a manner. With her hair the way it was, Rose would have more luck convincing a Hippogriff to bow to a pig than flick like Lily's.

Rose's attention was brought back to the issue at hand by Lily's suddenly business-like tone.

"I have quite a few dress robes which would be appropriate, Rose," she offered with a genuine smile, "You could borrow them for the night. This might just work."

"I know you're trying to be nice Lil," Rose returned her smile, "But we both know anything that fits you is simply not going to fit me. It's physically impossible."

Rose's chest area was notably larger than Lily's for one. Notably larger than any of her relatives who hadn't popped out at least one kid actually. Not to mention her hips, thighs, stomach, ankles, and virtually every other appendage of Rose's was also larger than any of Lily's.

"I know a few charms!" the young girl offered with a renewed light in her eyes, "We can make them a little bigger around the bust – no one would ever know!"

"Lily…"

"Now listen Rose," Lily crossed her arms and spoke assuredly, "I have charmed robes to hide pregnancies and other decidedly more sinister _growths_ for people before (Rose wanted to know that story. Perhaps another time), I can most certainly fit your boobs in a dress."

Rose managed to stop herself from laughing when she saw Albus blush out of the corner of her eye. Exhibit B in the case of 'Why Albus Potter Doesn't have a Girlfriend' – the boy can't even hide his blush when someone says 'boobs', what on earth would he be like when faced with the real thing. Rose stopped that train of thought right there before it spawned many a mental picture she would be unable to erase.

"I have a lovely floor length green one actually!" Lily looked off in the distance, obviously constructing a plan for Rose's outfit in her mind, "It would match the ring. If anyone sees it you can claim you were just accessorizing. Not to mention is would look great with your hair."

Rose highly doubted that – _nothing_ went with Rose's hair. It was genetically programmed to not match anything. Not to mention they were missing the most blindingly obvious thing of all - something that no outfit, not matter how pretty, couldn't fix.

"Come on guys!" Rose exclaimed, thoroughly tired and with an aching finger, "The man secretly gave me his family ring which has been charmed to stay on my finger – you really think I can just waltz on up to him and say 'Hey Scorp, seems you accidently gave me your magic family ring – mind fixing that for me?'"

"Of course not," Albus said as he threw his arm over her shoulders with a devilish smile, "You're going to have to _persuade_ him to take it back – show him why _nobody_ messes with Rose Weasley."

Rose smiled to her cousins. Oh yes. She liked the sound of that. Her favourite hexes immediately began cascading through her head in a waterfall of imminent misfortune. Oh yes, this could be fun.

"Ok," she nodded, "As long as Lily can fix me some robes."

She turned to her cousin hopefully who simply smiled and flicked her hair once more.

"Honey, you'll look gorgeous."

"I don't care what I look like," Rose glanced at where she felt the ring on her finger, "As long as I can get in so I can get this thing off my finger. It would be nice if my boobs weren't hanging out though."

Albus blushed right on cue again.

"I'm sure I can manage that," Lily said with a smile.

"Fantastic," Rose said returning the smile with renewed confidence, "Now I just have to survive Afternoon Tea, fit in some robes and then I'm going to make that bloody Malfoy spawn take this damn ring back."

Albus tugged Rose a little close and smiled broadly.

"_That's_ my Rosie!" he said happily, "Happy Birthday, by the way."

Rose rolled her eyes with a smile, "Thanks Albi."

The three of them stood and hurriedly made their way to the kitchen for afternoon tea. Rose took a deep breath as she walked along the corridor to the kitchen, which was practically buzzing with activity. All she had to do was survive the afternoon.

Then Scorpius Malfoy was going to pay.

* * *

><p><em>Nothing like some totally awesome Weasley pay-back! Yee-hah! Hope this wasn't too predictable. <em>

_Also, last time I said 'Anyhow, please review (OMG that rhymes!)'...well no, it clearly doesn't. I mean to say 'Anywho, please review' which does rhyme...Yeah, sorry bout that_

_But review all the same please :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello all! Sorry about not updating for ages – school has been crazy. Hope this is all worth the wait. Thank you to all who have been reviewing – you have no idea how happy it makes me whenever I read them. Your encouragement inspires me and makes me happy _

_Now, this chappie is MUCH longer than the others. Perhaps a little too long, sorry for that, hope its not too tedious to get through. I also apologize if the French isn't grammatically correct – you can blame Google Translate for that. I equally apologise for any spelling and grammar mistakes in English, I'm a little sleep deprived and am bound to have missed something. _

_A big shout out to Matilda Black who pulled up my mistakes in relation to gems and jewelry, as well as giving me some great ideas about the ring. My mistake hasn't been amended here but it will be in the coming chapters, I promise!_

_As always, I don't own the characters, but I so dearly wish I did so I wouldn't have to write up silly lab reports._

_Enjoy and please review!_

* * *

><p>Scorpius adjusted his robes one last time before assessing his appearance again. No facial hair, check - the five o'clock shadow just simply wasn't suitable for tonight's big occasion. Slicked hair, check – those few rampant curls he inherited from his mother were suitably tamed to fool anyone who didn't know better that his hair was naturally this slick and controlled. And black robes – check. His robes were definitely black. They were all black. Extremely black. Nothing but black. Blackest Black. Ever so slightly depressing black.<p>

Boring black.

Maybe he should throw in some white for good measure? Or maybe a little bit of blue? He could always spice it up with a bit of red – red and black always looked quite dapper didn't it? And just the littlest bit sexy. But was sexy appropriate for tonight? He wasn't going out to pick up just any socialite who happened to cross his path after all – he had to be composed and serious tonight. Maybe sexy wasn't a good play. But red and black did go well together…No. His father never wore anything other than black to these things, therefore it was only right that he followed tradition and wore all black as well, given that he was acting as a formal representative of his family and all. Yes, he should follow tradition.

Although, perhaps if Malfoy's weren't so damn obedient and weren't afraid to break the blasted traditions every once in a while his father wouldn't have been a death eater and Scorpius wouldn't have had to overcome all sorts of prejudice and people wouldn't flinch when they heard his name and he could become emancipated from his damn grand…

No. Stop. There was no place for thoughts like that in his head. Not tonight. Tonight was much too important to have such thoughts invading his mind and making him…_ill-eased. _

He was not his father. _He wasn't_. And he wasn't his grandfather either. Definitely not. He was _Scorpius_ Malfoy. Completely different.

Oh hell he was rambling wasn't he? He was internally rambling and he wasn't even at the damn event yet. It was no big deal. He had planned for this. For _weeks_ he had planned for this – done his research, made contacts in the right places, had a dominant presence without being threatening or overbearing, subtly developed his plan of attack. All for tonight. Tonight would make or break him. Tonight determined his future. His perfect future that he'd been planning in his head for much longer than he allowed himself to admit.

And tonight all of his hard work was going to pay off.

There was a tap at the window and he turned to see a large tawny owl hovering outside. He recognized it instantly – his sourcehad sent him a message. Why the hell did they feel the need to send it _now_? Surely there was nothing so important that his source couldn't simply tell him _tomorrow_; he was due to leave any moment.

Scorpius walked hurriedly to the window and took the small note from the bird's clutches. It appeared to be written on a napkin. Maybe Scorpius should have been more careful in choosing his sources – perhaps someone with an ounce of class and decorum? He fed the bird, which promptly flew away, and opened the note. Written in very messy, clearly rushed handwriting were four small words.

_Wear green – you'll match._

Scorpius smiled to himself. It appears he had underestimated his sources. Scorpius put the note on his desk and went to his dresser to retrieve some green elements to compliment the black – after all, a couple should match on their first official appearance together. So if Rose was wearing green, Scorpius should most certainly make sure he did too.

Oh yes, tonight would be perfect.

* * *

><p>Rose had walked into the Ministry function beside her parents with every intention of locating Scorpius Malfoy and hexing him into next week. Upon stepping into the ballroom however, she instantly lost her nerve.<p>

The size of the room was intimidating to start off with – larger than the Great Hall at Hogwarts she was sure – and it was filled with the who's who of the International Magic Corporation. The Ministers from all notable National Ministries worldwide appeared to be in attendance and were currently speaking with the English Minister for Magic (and Rose's boss) Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt. There were famous Quidditch players circulating, Rose recognizing a couple from the few times she had accompanied Henry to some official functions (Merlin she hoped he wasn't here), as well as highly respected members of the wizarding community. One such well respected member present was Minerva Mcgonagall who was still bustling at her ripe old age of….actually Rose had no idea how old she was. But she was surely reaching beyond the mark of 'old' and well into 'ancient' territory now. Anyone who suggested as such would dearly wish they hadn't though she suspected – her former headmistress could still strike fear into any of her former pupils Rose was sure. There were also several female socialites from very good families walking around in robes that were so stunning it made Rose feel more than a little self-conscious. Yes, the robes Lily had adjusted for her were stunning when Lily wore them, but that was because Lily just had a way about. An _aura_, and hence could make anything look stunning. Rose however, did not. She tucked a rampant curl – the first one to escape the nice up-do Lily had spent quite a bit of work forcing all her hair into – behind her ear and straightened out her robes once more.

_There's no time to be self-conscious_, she told herself, _You have a job to do – the sooner you do it the sooner you can leave. And you do have to leave soon._

Rose checked the dainty silver watch on her wrist for the time – it was 8:00. Damn! They had been delayed leaving because they had to change transport arrangements due to Rose's spontaneous decision to come along, and then her dear old father couldn't find the right cufflinks (his favourite quaffle-shaped ones that spun), and of course her mother couldn't rest until they'd tracked them down which had taken a good 30 minutes. So now they were late. This simply wouldn't do – Rose was on a time limit. When Lily had handed her the charmed robes, she'd given Rose strict warning that the charms would only last 'a couple of hours'. When Rose had tried to establish just how long '_a couple of hours'_ was, Lily had told her to make sure she was heading home or at least out of her robes – Lily had giggled furiously at that implication – by 10 because they would probably start shrinking again. By 11 she probably wouldn't have much of a dress left. Rose felt like some weird, twisted version of Cinderella.

So she was on a strict time frame, which meant no time for thinking badly of oneself or procrastinating – she had to search for Scorpius Malfoy. With a head as large as his she was sure that wasn't going to be too difficult. She took two steps forward when the doorman stopped her.

"Wand, ma'am," he said, his glove-covered hand outstretched toward her.

"I'm sorry?" Rose asked, hoping there had been some sort of a mix up. After all, she needed her wand to get her revenge on Scorpius – turning his hair pink and causing him to vomit slugs whilst dressed in his best robes and surrounded by the who's who should surely _persuade_ him to take the ring back.

"You have to hand over your wand Rose," her mother interjected, handing hers to the doorman along with Ron's, who was already chatting happily with some rather rotund fellow Rose had never seen before, "They don't allow any wands inside the function since a duel broke out between drunk dignitaries six years ago."

"But…" Rose turned to look at the doorman who was suitably annoyed, "But what if there's some kind of terrorist attack – this place would be a prime target for any extremist group. We need to our wands to –"

"Rose the wards here are the strongest known to man," her mother took Rose's bag, which housed her beloved wand, "And there are security personnel who all have theirs. There is no reason to worry."

"But! But I haven't parted with my wand since I got it!" she watched as her mother handed Rose's wand to the doorman, both horrified and extremely scared.

"There's a first time for everything dear," her mother smiled at the man who returned it happily before addressing the guests waiting behind them.

"But…" Rose kept her eyes focused on her the small locked box her wand had been tucked away in as it floated into the room behind the doorman that was, apparently, a cloakroom for wands. A 'Wand Room' it would appear.

"Come on love," her mother said with a smile as she waved to someone they walked past, "Try to enjoy it. After all, this is the perfect opportunity to ask the Norwegian Minister about his new apothecary trade reforms you're so interested in."

Rose was about to ask her mother what the hell she was talking about when she remembered that had been the cover she'd invented to get them to bring her along. Normally none of the children were permitted to attend unless they themselves received an invitation or were asked to be the guest of someone else (Lily had been to one or two official functions for just that reason), even though Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron were all invited individually and hence were all allowed a 'plus one'. Rose had had to come up with an excuse that her mother would buy and encourage. Political interest seemed the obvious option. Rose's father, on the other hand, was nowhere near as difficult. She just had to use the 'Well it _is_ my birthday…' line, followed by a sympathy-inducing smile and he would allow anything she'd asked for. She was Daddy's little girl after all.

Rose smiled at her mother in an attempt to cover her extreme panic and disappointment and went back to headhunting Scorpius Malfoy. Just because she didn't have her wand didn't mean she couldn't remind him why nobody messed with Rose Weasley.

Hermione had managed to drag Ron away from whomever he was speaking to and went about tracking down Neville who was standing with some of the other Hogwarts teachers who had managed to snag an invite (Rose thought it was sweet that the man who had so bravely defended Hogwarts was now its Headmaster. It seemed rather fitting). Rose bid them farewell, telling them she'd probably see them at the end of the evening or tomorrow sometime, and watched as they disappeared into the crowd.

Right, she could do this. All she had to do was to find that big fat head of his with his freakishly glowing hair, abuse him a little, maybe add in slap or two for good measure, and demand he take the ring back. Yes, that was all. She could do this. _She could do this_.

Rose craned her head above the crowd but couldn't seem to see him anywhere. She considered going back up to the top of the stairs to get a better view but she didn't want to go back near that stupid doorman again. Fancy taking a girl's wand from her. What a twat.

Rose couldn't see Scorpius anywhere. What if he wasn't even here? What if he had decided not to attend or Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had gotten back early so he wasn't even required? That would be just her bloody luck – she gets all dolled up with her painted face and her ridiculously lavish robes and constricted hair just to meet him and then he's not even here! Wait no, that sounded wrong. She didn't get dressed up like this _for him_ – it wasn't as if she was putting on a show for him or wanted him to find her attractive, she just needed to look this way to get into this damn function and abuse him. Yes, that was it.

What she wouldn't give to have her wand and hex something. Like that bloody doorman….

Rose was suddenly pulled from her visualizations of transfiguring the doorman into a pig by a distant sound that she recognized only too well – it was the forced polite laughter of Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. And it was coming from somewhere to her right. She spun to look over in the general vicinity of the sound of arrogant fake enjoyment, her eyes immediately scanning for iridescent blonde locks. She still couldn't see him. How was that possible?! The man's head was probably visible from space – how could she not see it in amongst all these damn dignitaries? Rose huffed to herself and decided to get closer and try to track him down that way. Maybe she'd be drawn in by his no doubt powerful cologne; one never knew.

As she politely pushed her way through the crowd Rose felt eyes on her, which was instantly unsettling. She had caught a few of the older gentlemen eyeing her somewhat suspiciously. No, they weren't eyeing her – they were eying her chest. Oh Merlin she wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Rose was so focused on keeping her head down and avoiding the uncomfortable gazes from people around her that she completely forgot she was supposed to be looking for Malfoy, until she literally bumped into him.

Eyes focused on the ground, Rose missed it when Scorpius had crossed her path on his way to retrieve a drink from a passing waiter. Flustered and embarrassed, Rose immediately started apologizing profusely.

"I am so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going! I -"

"Rose?"

Rose's head shot up, her eyes wide as she took in the sight in front of her. Right before her stood the man she was looking for, only he looked different. It wasn't his slicked back hair or his clean shaven face or his black and green robes (Slytherin to the soul, this one) – it was his expression. His eyes were warm, slightly darkened, and his face was contorted around a genuine smile that only seemed to grow when she looked at him. He looked truly surprised and happy. It was unsettling, not to mention distracting.

"Scorpius?" the word fell from her mouth in a wave of relief and shock – he really did look different when he looked so…_awe-struck_. Then she caught him looking her up and down as if she was sex on a stick. If she had her wand….

"You lied to me," he said abruptly, a smirk making its way up his features. Rose found this version of Malfoy – everyday, mischievous, little bit sleazy Malfoy – much easier to handle as opposed to handsome happy Malfoy. She scoffed at his implication – a man who sneakily gave her a charmed ring for her birthday was now going to lecture her on honesty? Oh this was rich. Rose missed her opportunity to rebut when he spoke again.

"You said earlier this week you weren't coming tonight," he said with a challenging smirk, his quest for a beverage long forgotten.

"If you remember that than you should have remembered my birthday," she retorted quickly as she crossed her arms, "So who's been lying to whom?

Scorpius shrugged.

"Our little conversation today reminded me – before then I truly didn't remember."

"You're a terrible liar," she shook her head, which caused her to catch a glimpse of a man to her left not-so-conspicuously trying to cop a look down her dress, which was only made easier by the way she was crossing her arms. WAS THE ENTIRE WIZARDING COMMUNITY MADE UP OF DIRTY OLD MEN?! Rose immediately uncrossed her arms, scowled at the man and turned back to Scorpius. She found him scowling at the man as well, something she thought to be quite peculiar. He took her hand and tugged her towards him, as he began to lead her through the crowd. Rose told herself she didn't care how tightly he held her hand or how it was strangely reminiscent of the way he held it when they had…well, how he held it _before_.

"Where are -?" she began to ask before he cut her off.

"I want a drink. You do too."

Rose was about to make some comment about him her do things against her will when she almost knocked into someone and lost her train of thought. She murmured a quiet apology to the young lady, who completely ignored her and instead introduced herself (in French) to Scorpius with a flick of her perfectly straight black hair whilst batting her dark eyelids. Scorpius gave her a small smile before replying (in French!).

"Je suis désolé, nous sommes fiancés."

The girl's face faltered before she looked briefly at Rose with a scowl. Rose raised an eyebrow and was about to say something (in plain old English) when she felt herself being pulled along by Scorpius once more. He smiled and bid the girl farewell (in French again) and continued on their path towards the bar, his hand still firmly holding hers.

Once they reached the bar, Scorpius stepped forward to await the bartender and order them drinks. Rose huffed to herself. She didn't want a drink – she wanted to demand he take this ring off but it was difficult seeing as he was barely acknowledging her presence. She felt decidedly awkward, standing here in these ridiculous robes all by herself as she waited for him to finish ordering. Fair enough, he was only a few feet away from her, but that was enough to make her feel like a right royal idiot.

Just when she was about to step forward and demand he remove this ring right now so she could go home, a young man came up to her and captured her hand. He was tall – about the same height as Malfoy, which meant he towered over her – with dark hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in pristine navy and silver robes, with a ruffled shirt. Rose suspected if anyone else had tried to pull off such a look they would have failed miserably. This man, however, succeeded. _Spectacularly. _He bowed to her graciously as he kissed her hand and introduced himself in French (Rose suspected he may be some relation to the girl they had recently bumped into). Just as she was about to give her best attempt at a 'Bonsoir' – the only polite French word she knew – Rose felt herself being pulled to the side. Or rather _into_ a side. Scorpius' to be exact.

"Ne vous embêtez pas, nous sommes d'heureux fiancés" he spoke to the man with a condescending smile. The man sneered at Scorpius before turning and walking in the other direction. Rose thought it was all very odd, not to mention frustrating – she was sick of people around her talking in a language she didn't understand. They were in England – everyone should be speaking English damn it!

"Here you are Rose," Scorpius handed her a drink that she took begrudgingly. She was about to start abusing him when he kissed her. Right there, in front of all these people, Scorpius Malfoy kissed her on the check softly. She turned her head to look up at him and found him looking purposefully at anything but her.

What the hell was going on?!

"What was that?" she demanded gracelessly.

"I didn't formally said hello to you before," he said, still not looking at her.

"You never formally say hello to me anyway," she challenged, utterly baffled by this whole evening.

"We've never been at such an event before, Rose," he looked down at her with a smile she didn't believe was completely sincere, "It's custom for a gentleman to greet a lady as such at these types of affairs."

Although he didn't say, Rose got the hint that he was implying that if she frequented these things more often she would know the custom. She didn't like it – it made her feel silly. And Rose did detest feeling silly.

A few moments of silence passed, in which Scorpius looked back out over the crowd and Rose looked at the floor, before she came back to her senses. She was being ridiculous – this madness had transpired long enough. Rose was going to get this damned ring off her finger and she was going to get it off _now_. She downed her drink in one ungraceful swig, placed it on the tray of a passing waiter, and turned to face the cause of all the turmoil (whose hand was still suspiciously placed on her hip).

"I need to talk to you," she watched as he swallowed the contents of his drink and eyed her over the top of his glass. The gleam in his eyes unnerved her. He looked away from her and placed his glass on another waited who just so happened to pass.

"Well…" he turned back to her, "Talk."

Rose caught a glimpse of the rather grotesque looking man behind him who seemed unable to advert his attention from her chest. This was not where she wanted this conversation to take place.

"In _private,_" she added with enough emphasis to get it through his thick skull.

"Well how very sinister," he smirked at her with a playful gleam in his eye, "How do I know you won't have your wicked way with me in some dark corner somewhere?"

"I'm not in the mood Malfoy."

"I have several techniques to change that I assure you," he cocked an eyebrow at her which she just scowled at.

"Seriously – outside. _Now_," she tried her best to be authoritative and scary but it was difficult considering how self-conscious she was feeling with that old baboon of a man still staring at her cleavage. Scorpius wasn't paying her any attention, instead looking out over the dance floor as the music began to change to a slightly slower rhythm.

"Why do we need to talk?" he asked, clearly not interested in her answer as he watched the couples assemble in the center of the room, subconsciously moving towards them, his hand slipping from her hip. Rose followed distractedly; adamant she wouldn't let him out of her sight until she had this damn ring off her finger.

"About the gift you gave me –"

"I already told you Weasley – I gave it to you, it's yours. Oh I do love this dance," he said to no one in particular, smiling out over the crowd of people.

"Scorpius!" Rose tugged on his robes to draw his attention back to her, "I know you gave it to me, but I need you t-"

"Dance with me," he commanded rather than requested.

"_Excuse me?_" Rose couldn't decide whether she was primarily angry at Scorpius' refusal to do what she wanted or primarily petrified at the thought of dancing with him in front of all these people.

"Come on Rosie," he said with a smile that was much too sincere and dazzling to be healthy to any one. She was so taken back by it she didn't even correct him when he called her Rosie.

"No, we need to talk about this ring," she set her face to scowl before adding as an afterthought, "Outside."

"I'll make you a deal – if you dance with me I will answer all the questions your mind has managed to construct for unknown reasons, in private," he bargained with a quirk of his eyebrow, "All I ask is one dance."

"I don't want t-"

"No dance: No answers," he said with finality and a smirk. Rose wanted to literally slap that conniving smug smirk right off his arrogant pointy face.

"Fine," she growled out between gritted teeth, "But you had better –"

"Fabulous!" he exclaimed joyously before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

Once in the center of the dance floor and in plain sight of everyone, Scorpius stopped and turned towards Rose. She swallowed her fears, figuring he'd take great pleasure in her discomfort so she should try and convince him she was in no way scared shitless. She placed her hands on his shoulders and remained at arms length, ensuring no other part of her anatomy came into contact with his own. She looked at Scorpius who simply raised an unimpressed eyebrow before smirking _again_. She watched as his right hand took her left off his shoulder and held it firmly, close to his chest. His other wound around her waist and planted itself at the base of her back as he shuffled closer to her.

"This is not the Yule Ball, Rose," he said in a deep voice that she tried to convince herself was _not_ sexy in the least, despite what the shiver down her spine suggested. He tugged her forward so her chest was almost touching his as he leant in close next to her ear.

"We are not children anymore," he whispered huskily and Rose had to literally close her eyes to hold onto her control and stop herself from moaning. A moment passed and then suddenly she found herself being led faultlessly around the floor. Rose tried to tell herself that the looks they were getting weren't judging or suspicious but her mind knew better than that – after all, the sight of a Weasley dancing with a Malfoy was something to behold. She was so preoccupied with the looks she was receiving from the crowd that she didn't notice the look she was getting from the man she was dancing with.

Scorpius looked down at Rose, his eyes not moving from her face throughout the duration of the song. She was worried, that much as obvious by the way she kept biting her lip and seemed reluctant to breathe. He needed to distract her, and distract her he would. He lowered his mouth to her ear with a smile.

"They all know," he murmured softly. Rose's eye went wide and she looked at him with horror.

"What?!" she tried to whisper but failed miserably.

"It's obvious to everyone," he shrugged and glanced around the room before looking back at her beautifully terrified face, "They all know you're in love with me Weasley."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I am _not_ in love with you Malfoy."

"Your eyes say no, but your body," he tugged her against him and smirked at her gasp, "Says yes."

"My body doesn't speak," she was clearly getting flustered which delighted Scorpius no end, "Except my mouth. And my mouth has most certainly not said it loves you."

He hummed in speculation before twirling her out on an accent in the music before pulling her back in against his body tightly. He looked down at her and was met with a pair of slightly startled blue eyes. Apparently she was as shocked with his gracefulness as he was at present.

"You can't deny that we make a fabulous couple," he said with a smile, watching as she scrunched up her nose and pointedly looked away from him.

"We have a good _working _relationship," she said defiantly, "That's all."

"Right," he nodded before lowering his head to her ear deliberately to make her blush, "Purely professional."

"Yes," she nodded and bit her lip again, trying not to find the way he murmured in her ear enticing in the slightest. This was ridiculous. They did this all the time – what with the flirting and the innuendo and whatnot – why was it bothering her so much now?

Perhaps because he was holding her rather possessively, and that he seemed to smell different tonight (something…spicy? She didn't know, it was just _different_), and everyone was watching them and she was in a floor length gown that _clung_. Merlin she needed to just get over herself and put him on the back foot instead – she could give just as good as she got. Yes, that would be her plan – make him just as ill-eased as she was.

Rose mustered up a sultry smile and was about to make a reference to how much _he _loved _her, _when she caught a glance of her mother watching her in the crowd. Suddenly any confidence she had managed to dig up deep within herself crumbled and retreated to its little dark resting place once more. My Merlin, she was shaming her Gryffindor heritage. Scorpius seemed to pick up on her sudden tenseness and silence, immediately understanding that something was wrong.

"Stop worrying Weasley," he said softly as they continued to move rather elegantly around the floor, "You're dancing fine."

"It's not the dancing I'm worried about," she muttered, eyes skimming over all the slightly stunned faces in the crowd. His voice was slow and velvety when he spoke again.

"Look at me," Rose didn't like how he didn't say please, but his voice was surprisingly soft and coaxing so she did as bade. She watched as he smiled at her wide horrified eyes.

"Just keep your eyes on me," he said with a gentle smile that would have knocked the breath out of her had she been breathing at all at the moment in time, "Don't worry about anybody else."

"But they're all staring at us," she implored, risking a look at the crowd once more only to have Scorpius' hand (which was still holding hers) force her to turn her head towards his once more.

"Not at us," he smiled as his eyes darkened a little, "At _you."_

She was about to retort that he wasn't making her feel better when he said something that silenced her for the rest of the dance.

"You look beautiful, Rosie" he smiled as he led them effortlessly through the sea of dancing couples while Rose tried to remember how to breathe, "They can't help but stare."

Rose swallowed the large chunk of _something_ that had risen in her throat and decided to stay focused on Scorpius for the rest of the dance for fear of connecting eyes with her mother again (or worse, her father). She stopped hearing the music after a while and just allowed herself to be Scorpius' puppet, being led flawlessly around the floor at a pace she was sure wasn't appropriate for a professional setting – all this swaying he was making her do made it feel a lot more intimate than it should. Not to mention how his hand had somehow managed to come to rest at the curve of her spine, dangerously low for a _friendly_ dance. And how his eyes were darker now, and his face wasn't as playful as before. Something was happening to him – to _them_ – and Rose didn't think it was a good thing. They were getting too close. She wasn't sure what they were getting too close to – each other? Other more metaphorical things she didn't risk thinking about? – but she didn't like it.

Rose let out a heavy breath and thanked all heavenly bodies in existence when the song ended and the crowd applauded. Rose let go of Scorpius' hand and shoulder and stepped away immediately. Too close. They were too close. She gave the crowd a quick once over and couldn't see anyone she was related to which was a relief – the last thing she needed was her father breaking Scorpius' nose in front of all these people. She turned back to look at Scorpius who was looking at her with a satisfied smirk on his face. It brought her back to reality – she was here to get rid of this damn ring! She needed to stop mucking around and wasting time.

"Outside," she said over the applauding crowd.

"Lead the way," Scorpius bowed mockingly and gestured towards the doors at the side of the room which, from what Rose could see, led out onto a secluded balcony, courtyard area. She headed off quickly, not giving him the chance to hold her hand or her waist or any other part of her anatomy for fear of it distracting her from her mission.

Once outside, Rose spun to face Scorpius, her eyes adjusting to the darkened surroundings. He followed her out lazily, taking in a deep luxurious breath on the cold air as he tucked his hands in his pockets. He looked at her sideways and smiled to which she simply glared.

"There – we danced," she put her hands on her hips, "Now, I want you to take the ring back."

"What ring?" he asked with a look of confusion.

"What ring?! _The _ring!" she exclaimed possibly too loudly, "The one you gave me today – The _Malfoy family ring!"_

A smirk crawled up the side of his face and he chuckled a little.

"Oh _that_ ring…"

"Don't be a dick," Rose crossed her arms in exasperation.

"I don't see the problem," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"You don't see the problem?!"

"Is there an echo out here?" he smirked as her face flushed in anger.

"Scorpius!" Rose shrieked – she was reaching the end of her patience.

"Why don't you want the ring?" he asked with a smile, thoroughly enjoying himself apparently. Prat. Rose took a deep breath to try and calm herself before responding.

"Because it's yours – it doesn't belong to me."

"But I _gave _it to you."

"Just take it back!' she snapped with a stomp of her foot. Scorpius sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Fine – hand it over," he held out his hand to her.

Rose held out her hand and tapped her foot impatiently. Scorpius took her hand and examined it with a confused expression. He looked back to Rose with one eyebrow raised.

"Really?" he didn't sound impressed, "_Hand_ it over? That's a bit childish – I meant give me the ring."

"Don't take that tone with me Malfoy," she spat with malice, "I'm sure you are quite aware of the fact that I can't take the ring off. So just say the counter-spell or whatever you have to so I can get rid of it."

"Appears you already have," he nodded to her hand, "You're not wearing any ring Rose."

"Don't try to act innocent – you know I can't take it off."

"So how do you explain this then?" he said gesturing to her naked hand, "The ring's miraculously turned invisible has it?"

Rose rolled her eyes and stuck out her hip slightly.

"I've concealed it, dip-shit."

His face faltered at her insult – apparently he was genuinely taken back that someone dared call him a dip-shit. He regained his composure, clearly more irritated than moments ago as he checked his pocket-watch non-to discretely.

"Well this _dip-shit _refuses to waste time solving invisible problems, so I'm going to go back inside and…"

He managed one and a half steps towards the door before Rose grabbed hold of his robes and tugged him back to face her.

"Oh no you're not!" Rose waved her hand over her finger and removed the charm wordlessly, the little troublesome trinket coming to light as brilliantly as it did this afternoon, "There! Now it's not invisible, so get rid of it."

Scorpius smiled down at the ring before looking back at her.

"But I think it looks rather lovely right where it is."

"I don't care what you think," Rose said through gritted teeth, "Get rid of it."

"Why don't you want to wear it?" he crossed his arms with that same stupid smile. Pig.

"I've already told you," Rose started speaking hurriedly – she didn't want anyone to happen upon them and see her wearing his ring, "It's yours, it's not meant for me."

"But I gave it…"

"I know you gave it to me but I don't care!" Rose interrupted loudly, "Take it back."

Scorpius tsked at her and shook her head.

"Didn't your parents ever tell you it was rude to return your gifts?"

"Rude?! _I'm_ being rude?!" Rose couldn't adequately express her shock and disbelief so instead she just gaped for several moments before continuing, "I'm not the one who gave someone a charmed ring for her birthday!"

"No, but you are throwing a bit of a tantrum…"

"You have some fucking nerve," her voice was cold and low as she scowled at him. The prick simply smiled and tossed his head back a little.

"It's part of my charm."

"It's going to be part of the reason I hex your balls off," he had the decency to look a little scared, "Now, take back the ring."

"Not before you tell me why you don't want to wear it," Scorpius challenged, folding his arms once more.

"How come you get to keep making terms?"

"Because you need me, that means I get to bargain."

Rose's face darkened and she felt anger boiling inside of her. He had some fucking nerve.

"I swear to Merlin, if I had my wand –"

"Yes, but you don't do you Rosie?" he interrupted with an arrogant smile, "Now tell me – why don't you want to wear the ring?"

"Because!" she sighed exasperatedly and regained some of her composure, "Because people will get the wrong idea."

"And what idea is the wrong idea, Rosie?" he pried.

"Don't call me that," she responded tiredly. She just wanted to go to bed.

"Don't avoid the question – what's this wrong idea people are getting?"

Rose looked at him and was infuriated to see him smiling at her expectedly. She just wanted this stupid ring off her finger, but no – nothing was ever that simple with Malfoy. He always had to be twisty and confusing and distracting and infuriating! She sighed and tried to relieve some of the tension filling her body. She knew she was going to feel silly saying what she was about to.

"If I go around wearing the Malfoy ring people will think we're…I don't know…dating, or something..."

"Dating?" he looked thoroughly confused before scoffing, "Hardly."

"Exactly!" Rose let out a giggle as a result of the release of all the nervous tension she'd been carrying since she got here, "Exactly! That's what I said! I told them that it was just a birthday gift between friends – it was just because you forgot to get me a present and happened to have this with you at the time. But they seemed to think it was because you fancied me! They thought we were engaged!"

"Did they now?" the tone in his voice made it evident that he was not, in anyway, unaware of this information. But Rose, being too caught up in her ramblings about platonic relationships and relief, completely missed it. Scorpius tuned in again when she mentioned Albus.

"How had Albus put it? That's right!" she laughed from relief again, "Get this – Albus said it was like you were lifting your leg; he said you were marking your territory like a dog or something!"

Scorpius looked at her with darkened eyes that dragged over the length of her body once more. He came back to meet her gaze with a smirk itching up his cheek.

"Albus said this?" Scorpius took a step closer to Rose who was still giggling at the absurdity of it all. She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. Her enthusiasm faltered when she recognized the look in his eye – that sneaky, dark, sexy look that could only mean bad things for the female population, Rose specifically. Scorpius smirked widely as her obvious discomfort.

"Maybe he's smarter than I give him credit for."

What. Le. Fuck.

"_What?!_" Rose exclaimed too loudly but she just didn't care.

"I would never put it so…" he sneered a little at an imaginary Albus in his mind somewhere, "_tastelessly_, but the basic principles are the same I guess."

"Basic principles?" her voice was course and strained. This was too much.

"Yes, the whole marking bit," Scorpius shrugged indifferently, "It's basically the same."

"Wait…wha…" Rose spluttered inelegantly as she tried to get her head around all this, "You mean you actually gave me the ring with the intention of _marking me?_"

"Yes," he added a nod for extra assurance. Which reduced Rose to a spluttering mess once more.

"But…wha…why?!" She watched as his eyes darkened and his smile became more sinister.

"So everyone knows that you're mine," his voice had deepened slightly, "And I'm yours, of course."

"Oh I'm yours, am I?" Rose's hands made their way to her hips as she glared at him, "You didn't think you'd run that by me first?"

"I did," he shrugged and his eyes seemed to darken a little more, "You agreed."

"I did _not!_" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Yes you did," he countered calmly.

"When?" she demanded to know when she had somehow agreed to all this. It just smelt of the Imperious Curse.

"The second Friday of last month."

Well that didn't clear things up at all.

"What? I don't…"

"In the moments preceding us shagging Rose," he sounded a little snippy now, obviously displeased with her not remembering, "You said you were mine."

Rose cursed the blush spreading up her cheeks. Stupid Weasley genes. She gathered her courage once more to battle with the immovable, stubborn object that was Scorpius Malfoy.

"For Merlin's sake Scorpius I was _drunk_!" she whispered emphatically, "Anything I say when I'm wasted is non-sense."

"You weren't that drunk," he said with an arrogant kind of gleam in his eye.

"Yes I was," she reiterated, though now she couldn't tell which one of them she was trying to convince.

"No," he said firmly, "You weren't."

"Face it Scorpius – I was pissed and that's the only reason anything happened."

"You know that's not true," he smirked as before adding, "Unless of course you're a total light weight who gets royally pissed after three drinks."

Rose rolled her eyes.

"I had more than three drinks."

"Really?"

"Yes – you got me drunk and that's the only reason _that_ happened," Rose said with finality before holding her hand out again, "Now the ring…"

"You needed no encouragement from me nor from any alcohol, Rose," Scorpius countered, apparently not willing to just let this go, "You wanted me and I wanted you."

"No. I. Didn't! I was –"

"Let's think about how many drinks you had shall we Rose?" his voice had adopted a somewhat condescending tone she didn't appreciate at all as he counted the drinks on his fingers, "You'd just finished your first when I got there. Then I bought you another at the bar. Then we got another and moved to the booth."

"Where we proceeded to drink fountains-full of that cider stuff," Rose interjected adamantly. She watched his eyes grow dark once more and that smirk find its place across his features once more.

"I assure you Rose," he spoke softly in a deep voice she tried her best to ignore, "once we were both in that booth we didn't leave. Not until we went to apparate of course."

"No…no that's not…" Rose tried to remember all those other drinks she had but she couldn't for the life of her bring any to mind. She could only recall drinking three as well, "That can't be right."

"Really?" Scorpius picked at his finger in a manner he hoped looked nonchalant, "Because the next morning you apparated quite quickly and efficiently for someone who would have been suffering a mammoth hangover from all that supposed alcohol you consumed."

Rose could have sworn he was asleep when she left. Perhaps best not to dwell on that.

"I _was _hungover!" she defended adamantly, "I went straight back to bed once I'd got home."

"That's physical exhaustion – not a hangover."

"Physical exhaustion?" Rose scoffed with a disbelieving smile, "What, from all the sex we had? Puh-lease!"

"Never been physically exhausted after sex before Rosie?" his voice was low and playful again, "Guess the Canon Boy-Wonder isn't up to it, ey?"

"Henry is…" she wanted to say something other than boring but she was struggling, "Perfectly adequate."

He literally threw his head back and barked out a laugh. After composing himself slightly he looked back at her with honest joy in his eyes.

"Oh well that's every man's aspiration – to be _perfectly adequate_ in bed! It's nice to know I out-score him in that department."

"I wouldn't say that," Rose challenged with a smirk of her own, "Henry's memorable at least. I can't even _remember_ what sex with you was like."

That changed things. He got serious again and stared at her.

"Yes you do," he affirmed.

"No I –"

"Just think Rose," his voice was low and coaxing as he took a step towards her, which she responded to by inching backwards, "Think of how it felt."

She considered asking him to clarify how _what _felt but she thought that would just cause a bigger hole for herself. She needn't have worried – he seemed intent on reminding her.

"How _we_ felt…" he reached his hand out and touched her own softly, drawing it closer to rub his fingertips over the back of her hand, "You lying in my bed, amongst my sheets…"

He stepped closer and Rose took another back, only to feel her back hit the wall – there was no more escaping. Rose didn't like the feeling one little bit. Just like she didn't like the feeling of _something_ that had started to build in the pit of her stomach.

"With my arms wrapped around you…"

His right arm snaked around her waist and brought her against him, her hand instinctively going to his chest to steady herself. Scorpius smiled and Rose told herself not to loose her breath but she did anyway. How was he able to do this to her? She really _did not _understand how one minute they were arguing and the next. Well, they were like this.

His hand meandered its way down to her lower back to pull her hips forward until they were aligned with his own. He lowered his head to rest his mouth against his ear, a sly smile filling his features.

"Your hips locked with mine…"

He began to subtly sway just as they had inside, only this time they were considerably closer and she was blushing a lot more. Rose had to close her eyes in a vain attempt to block out the feelings engulfing her body or the memories bombarding her mind.

"As we moved together…"

His hips kept control of hers, occasionally thrusting ever so slightly and catching her off guard. All the fuzzy bits of that night that Rose had assured herself she didn't remember slowly started to come back – how he held her, how he moved above her, how she moved below him, how her legs had wrapped around his waist to keep him close.

"Remember how you called out my name…"

Rose did remember – how ragged her breath was, how strangled her voice had become. A faint memory of it rang in her ears and she found herself wishing to be right back there and be able to feel that again. Stupid treacherous mind and body making her want things that were wrong. Another well-timed and well-positioned sway of his hips had Rose right back in the present, which was arguably worse than being in the past.

"As I called out yours…"

Rose heard it in her head – he had called out to her, _for_ her. How his breath was uneven and his voice had cracked. The groans and gasps, it all played out in her mind like an old, highly inappropriate movie.

"Remember," he entwined his fingers in her own and squeezed her hand like he had when she told him she was his, "What it was like to be _mine_…"

There it was. She could see it all. His hand holding hers – never letting her go, keeping her safe. Making her _his_. Oh Merlin how had she managed to convince herself forget that? It had been invigorating, intoxicating, _blindingly wonderful._

But she'd be damned if she let him know that.

"No I…." she fumbled over her words as she opened her eyes, "I don't remember."

"That's a shame," he smirked and looked her in the eye while his head slowly began to lower towards hers, "Maybe you just need to be reminded."

Oh God this wasn't good.

"No," for reasons unknown, Rose found herself whispering, "I don't want to remember."

"Why not Rose?" he asked playfully just as quiet as her.

"Because I…I don't want to."

"Because you're afraid," he asserted with a smile.

"I'm not scared of you Malfoy," she managed to scowl at him and sound a little more confident than before.

"No," he answered whimsically as his eyes roamed her face, "I don't think you are."

"Then why would I be afraid?" now she was a little confused.

"Because you're scared of _us_," he whispered as if it was some big secret.

"There _is _no_ us_," she implored.

"But there could be – and you want there to be – and that _terrifies _you."

That wasn't true. _It wasn't_. Rose shook her head without their gazes breaking.

"No...no there…" she had no idea where her inability to speak came from – certainly not her parents, "we could never…"

"Yes we could," his voice was soft and coaxing again as his eyes glanced at her lips, "Just like you want. You want to be mine…"

"No," she said with some semblance of conviction. He just smiled and lowered his head slowly to hers.

"Yes."

"…No…" Rose cursed herself for sounding so weak and breathy.

"Yes," he gave a subtle nod and continued in his steady descent.

Rose was silent, eyes focused on his ever-nearing lips. He was everywhere – his arm encircled her, his scent filled her nose, his voice continued to ring in her ears, and the feel of his thumb running over the back of her hand was driving her insane. Scorpius Malfoy was suffocating her. And it felt incredible. With flashes of _that night _running through her head, Rose couldn't help but think that maybe one little kiss wouldn't be so bad – in fact it would probably be rather fantastic.

As his lips descended she found herself simultaneously praying for him to kiss her and leave her be. She wanted this so much it was driving her mad, and that was exactly why she shouldn't be doing this. He was Scorpius. No, he was _Malfoy _and Rose should not be kissing Malfoys. But oh Merlin she wanted to.

She held her breath for a moment and watched as his lips stopped their steady descent mere millimeters from her mouth. He glanced at her eyes, which were focused on his mouth, eyelids drooped and breath quickening in what he knew to be excitement and desire. He smiled softly to himself.

"No?" he asked gently, his voice low and seductive as he watched her lick her lips. She replied in a breathy whisper.

"Yes."

And that was it. Scorpius kissed her and Rose was fully prepared to be thrown back into the wall from the sheer force of it, to lose her breath from his assault that would knock the air from her lungs, to hear him moan and groan and feel certain appendages against her thigh from his unholy, inhibited desire for her.

No such thing happened.

Scorpius' hand had gently come to rest on the right side of her face, holding her steady as he kissed her sweetly and softly. His lips were gentle as his fingertips danced over her cheekbone. He was kissing her like he had all the time in the world. And Rose found herself thinking that she dearly wished they did, because an eternity of this would be bliss. It knocked the air out of her lungs for completely different reasons to what she was expecting – it threw her because it was so honest. It wasn't like their flirting which hid other meanings, or the constant innuendo she had to decipher. This was honest – he wanted her. And she be damned if, in that moment of total weakness, she didn't want him just as badly.

Rose felt him tug her a little closer to his body with the arm he still had snaked around her waist. She arched into him and brought her left hand up to rest on the side of his face, eyes closed as she allowed herself to simply feel all that was going on around her. She cursed her body for needing this as badly as she did. Merlin she just wanted to stay here forever, in this separate little world that no one else could be a part of, where it was just the two of them doing this forever (ok, so eventually she might want to do _other_ things, but right here and right now, this was more than enough).

There was a flash of light from the celebrations inside somewhere and dull sound that she thought may have been someone opening a fresh bottle of champagne. In all honesty Rose hadn't been paying that much attention to it. Scorpius, apparently, had, for he drew away from her slowly, catching her gaze as she opened her eyes lazily. Rose worked on recovering her breath and perhaps managing to remember her name but when he smiled at her she just lost her breath and any hope she had for her name once more. He leaned forward and she thanked her lucky stars, only to be bitterly disappointed when he moved his lips to the side of her ear. He began to speak in a voice so quiet Rose struggled to hear it even though he was whispering right in her ear. She felt him smile against her skin and she couldn't felt but smile a little too.

"I'm not taking the ring back."

And with that he was gone, back into the Ballroom to slip into casual conversation once more with some very important people Rose didn't know.

Rat bastard.

Rose took in a deep breath to calm her rising anger (because it was purely anger that caused her heart rate to rise and her face to flush. Absolutely nothing else) when she felt something peculiar. The breath she had taken felt a little more strained than normal. To be precise, her robes felt a little more strained than before. Oh dear. This wasn't good. She hurried into the Ballroom and asked one of the passing waitress's the time.

"10," she answered with a noise that Rose was sure came more from the girl's nose than her throat. How did that happen?! Where had all the time gone? And she still had this damn ring on her finger.

Could this evening get any worse?!

Rose made a beeline for the door. These robes were getting damned uncomfortable and she feared that in a few minutes they would also become rather inappropriate. Pushing her way through the crowd whilst trying to be as polite as possible and dodging any family, it took Rose a good 10 minutes to cross the floor. She rushed up the stairs and to the same insufferable man that had claimed her wand at the beginning of the evening.

"Na-" he begun but she cut him off somewhat abruptly.

"Rose Weasley, Hermione Weasley's plus one," she crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover the excessive skin starting to peak through, "Wand. _Now_."

The man looked a little scared as he flicked his wand and summoned the correct box. Rose snatched her beloved wand as soon as the box was unlocked and hurried out the doors. She did contemplate sending a stray jinx in after Scorpius, but she thought the Minister probably wouldn't be too impressed, not to mention her dear mother (her dad, Rose thought with a smile, probably wouldn't care. In fact he'd probably be proud).

With the material continuing to constrict and shorten – Rose's ankles were now freezing in the night air – she rushed to the nearest floo in the foyer and stepped inside, ignoring the man standing guard. She grabbed a handful of dust and practically yelled her address. In a burst of green flames, Rose disappeared from the Ministry.

Approximately two seconds after she stepped out of her fireplace, Rose flicked her wand and banished her robes immediately. She took in the first deep breath she could manage for the past 15-20 minutes, inhaling the air hungrily. She collapsed into bed in her underwear, too tired to be bothered changing, and reassessed the night in her mind. It had been, in a word, a disaster. She had been ogled by old fat men all night, had been forced to dance with Scorpius, then been forced to kiss Malfoy (a little voice in the back of her head challenged whether she was actually _forced_ into anything but she simply told it to shut up and banished it from her consciousness), and after all that she still had the bloody ring on her finger! Rose glanced at the ring angrily – how dare it be so deceptive when it was just so pretty. Well, it was the Malfoy Ring after all – pretty and deceptive came with the territory.

With that final thought, Rose closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep almost instantly. She would worry about the ring in the morning; right now she just wanted to sleep.

* * *

><p>Rose had slept surprisingly well all things considered. In fact she had been sleeping so peacefully she wondered what on Earth had woken her up in the first place. Then she heard it.<p>

_Tap, tap, tap._

What the devil was that?

_Tap, tap, tap._

It wasn't someone knocking at her door. What could it…

_Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptapt aptap_

Rose opened her eyes begrudgingly and looked over at her window. There, wings beating defiantly, was a large black owl. Who in Merlin's name was sending her a letter this early on a Saturday? Clearly no one with any sort of respect for weekends. She yawned and stretched before heading towards the window. She unclasped the window and looked outside when she noticed it.

There wasn't one owl – there were thousands.

Ok, maybe thousands was a bit of an exaggeration, but there was a damn lot of them. And they didn't seem to want to wait until she opened the window to come in. Rose ducked for cover as a hoard of owls forced their way through her window and into her room were they began to drop letters like they were bombs. With squawks and hoots of all different varieties, owl after owl flew in and distributed its letter on her floor before flying back out the window. After the rain of paper that lasted a good three minutes or so, Rose opened her eyes and uncovered her face to look at the floor around her. Letters – hundreds of them – littered her room. She looked at them suspiciously – surely they couldn't all be belated birthday cards? She was 24 for Merlin's sake, it was hardly cause for such excitement. Rose picked up the closest one and read it cautiously. It was from Arrabella Argenforg from the office. That in itself was strange – she had said happy birthday yesterday, surely she didn't feel the need to send her a late card as well? It read:

_I knew it! I just knew it! CONGRATULATIONS! I am soooo happy for you! Oh this is amazing news! Can't wait to hear the whole story on Monday at work! All my love._

Well. That made no sense. Rose discarded the note – it was too early to try and decipher such cryptic messages on a Saturday – and instead picked up another. This one was from Dayton Peirce, a guy dated for a while back in sixth year (it didn't last long – his love for himself was too much for her to compete with. Funny how she seemed to attract guys like that).

_Tell me it's not true. I thought you had more sense than that Rose. I am so disappointed. _

That made just about as much sense as Arrabella's. The man doesn't speak to her since they've left Hogwarts and now he suddenly feels the need to send her some cryptic message about nothing at all? It also made her angry – he had no right to be disappointed in her for anything because they weren't even friends! What a wanker.

Before she could pick up the next undoubtedly bogus letter filling her room, one of the Potter owls flew through her window, dropped a rolled up newspaper on her head, and flew back out again. She cursed the bird and picked up the paper, which she now saw had a note attached. She read that note first.

_You might want to disappear for a while. A._

That didn't sound promising – anything Albus thought was worth hanging your head in shame for was surely terrible. She unrolled the paper and stared at it in total disbelief.

There, on the front cover of the Daily Prophet, was a full size moving picture of her and Scorpius kissing out in the courtyard, the Malfoy ring clearly visible on her hand which seemed to be caressing his face. Above the picture were three simple words:

_WEASLEY MALFOY ENAGAGED!_

Oh fuck.

* * *

><p><em>Ta da! Hope it was worth the wait. Next bit won't be up for AGES so sorry about that. Please review <em>


	4. Chapter 4

_Good Morning/Good Afternoon/Good Evening everyone! It's been a while and I'm sorry, but you should really count yourselves lucky – I didn't think this would be up until July, so getting it mid June is a bonus. I thank you all for your lovely reviews; I know I say it every time but they truly do brighten my day._

_This chappie starts a little slow and it takes a while for Scorpius to make an appearance, but please stick with it anyway. _

_A big shout out to the lovely reviewer who picked up my '_onyx'_ slip up in Chapter 1 – it is amended here and all credit goes to yourself. Thanking you muchly, hope I've fixed it up alright._

_Apologies for any and all spelling/grammatical errors – I have been writing this across the past month and a half in about hour stints that usually take place around 1-3 in the morning. Accuracy is not guaranteed._

_As always, the characters don't belong to me just the situations they find themselves in._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Once her brain had reconnected with the rest of her body and was capable of more than simply staring at the paper in front of her, Rose searched the page for any indication of how, precisely, they came to such an incorrect conclusion (and who she would be hexing for putting a photograph of her snogging someone, let alone a Malfoy, on the front of The Daily Prophet). Her eyes scanned the writing beneath the photograph – oh god did she really look like that when he kissed her? Merlin that was embarrassing enough in itself – which so proudly boasted a story and MORE PHOTOS inside.<p>

Rose decided, as she ripped the pages open angrily, that someone was going to die today. Very slowly. A small part of her brain began to think of ways she could make it look like an unfortunate accident.

She found the pages very quickly. It wasn't hard, considering there were published right on the inside of the front page. Rose's heart stopped as she stared in disbelief at a double page spread of all the moments the two of them had shared over the duration of the evening. The photographer – whomever the devil-spawn was – had seemed to capture pictures of them at all the most inconvenient points during the night. Her attention was drawn immediately to the photo which took up a majority of the inside cover and was, therefore, almost as large as the one on the front (joy of joys). It was a photo of them dancing, Rose staring at Malfoy in a manner some people may mistake for _longing_, as he held her close – _very _close – and spun them around the room. Surely they hadn't been that close. And his hands were definitely not _that_ low. Someone had tampered with this she was sure, there was no way she would have allowed him to hold her like that. No, no, no. Rose refused to believe it. She read the caption below the picture and had to physically stop herself from vomiting.

_The chemistry between Weasley and Malfoy was palpable, never more so than when they danced. It was a testament to all who attended – they belonged to each other._

They most certainly did not! Rose growled at the words and assessed the rest of the damage. She let out a throaty sort of a squeal when she noticed on the next page was a picture of him kissing her lightly on the cheek. Of course. _Of course_ they managed to capture the one time in either of their lifetimes that Scorpius had treated her so…amiably. They had managed to capture him as he wrapped his arm around her, handed her a drink, and then kissed her softly on the cheek. She watched as it replayed over and over before reading the small caption accompanying the assaulting footage.

_Though the pair tried to hide their affections, it was clear by intimate gestures such as these how they truly felt about each other._

What a load of -! Rose couldn't find an adjective adequate enough to describe her horror at the claims. There were no affections to be exposed with gestures like these and that would have been painfully obvious if they had bothered to include her reaction to his damn kiss. Not the one on the front cover, her reaction to that one was, unfortunately, now public knowledge. But this little intimate, _coupley _kiss was something else entirely. And she hadn't enjoyed it (_she hadn't! And she was prepared to duel anyone who claimed otherwise_) and she most certainly did not harbor any feelings of a romantic nature for Scorpius Bloody Malfoy!

Rose read parts of this supposed 'article' (nothing but fluff. What happened to the days when the Prophet had been a credible source of knowledge? It really had gone to the dogs, Rose was adamant) to see just what other falsities they had managed to conjure. She just about dropped the paper when they claimed a 'source' at the party had information on them. The article read:

_A source close to the pair said that they were undeniably happy, and quite boastful of their union._

BOASTFUL? How could one be _boastful_ when the 'union' didn't even exist! Oh If Rose ever got her hands on this damn 'source' there was going to be hell to pay.

_Miss. Evelyn Dubois, who attended the party as representative for her father's global potions logistics company, _Dubois Industries,_ said the two were candid about their involvement, and seemed unwilling to spend any time apart._

Dubois? That sounded like an incredibly foreign name. In fact it sounded quite _French_…

"_They are very much in love," Miss Dubois told _The Daily Prophet's _French correspondent_ _Elphaba Englesnort,, "Mr. Malfoy wore her on his arm like she was his most treasured prize – something he was proud of and very reluctant to part with."_

A prize? Rose was _not_ someone's prize! Even if it was a most treasured one. Oh this was awful! If Rose ever found this Dubois woman she was going to give her a piece of her mind and a taste of her bat bogey hex. What a crock of shit. Rose couldn't bear to read anymore of the main article and instead read a small column-long one on the right hand side of the page. It was a brief history of the engagement ring, boasting it's centuries-long heritage, dating all the way back to its creation at the hands of Scandinavian elves.

HOW WAS SHE THE ONLY PERSON IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE WHO DIDN'T KNOW THIS WAS THE MALFOY FAMILY RING?

Rose threw the paper across the room (or at least she attempted to, it caught on the wind of her still open window and just fluttered to the ground gracefully, which annoyed her no end) and let out an angry squeal. Oh she wanted to destroy something. She _needed _to destroy something. She looked around her room searching for something that she could sacrifice for the sake of feeling better. Something that was both non-sentimental and _flammable._

The robes from last night? No, they were Lily's and she was sure her cousin, no matter how lovely, would not take the news of her very expensive and stunning robes being set on fire very lightly.

Her bed? No, she loved her bed much too much. She berated herself for even thinking of such nonsense and mentally apologized to her beloved favourite piece of furniture.

Perhaps the thousand or so letter that adorned her floor? Yes, now that was a plan. But then again, there was the slight possibility that somewhere in amongst the congratulatory bullshit there was something that she actually needed to read, so she should probably wait until she sifted through them before she set any of them alight. And sifting through the mountain of letters that would probably just make her angrier was not the type of job one should undertake on a Saturday morning.

Just as she was contemplating the ramifications of setting her _Witch Weekly_ collection on fire, Rose remembered Albus' note.

_You might want to disappear for a while._

Oh God.

If Albus had read this paper then you could bet your bottom dollar that the entire Potter Household had read it too. And if the entire Potter household had read it, then it was only a matter of time before her parents were informed.

Oh Fuck.

She threw on the first articles of clothing she could find – which just so happened to be a thin singlet she usually slept in, a pair of much-loved sweat pants, some ballet flats that very rarely saw the light of day and an old knitted cardigan that just so happened to be lying on the floor – and grabbed her wand from her bedside table. She squared her shoulders and flicked her wrist, praying to any heavenly body in existence who was awake at this hour on a Saturday that she wasn't too late.

* * *

><p>With a loud crack, Rose appeared in the family lounge room, swaying slightly from the after effects of apparition (she really hated travelling that way so early in the morning). She steadied herself and hurried to the kitchen, hoping that maybe she might be able to grab the paper before anyone got up and was able to read it. That would then give her the whole day to get the story straightened out and her mother and father didn't have to be any wiser about the whole thing! Yes, that was a plan.<p>

Rose crept into the kitchen as quickly and quietly as possible when she froze right inside the door. There at the breakfast bar sat her mother, Hermione Weasley, dressed in a thick white dressing gown and watching her every move with eyes like a hawk.

"Morning mother," Rose greeted with a smile so forced it was painful. She felt her heart rate rise as Hermione stared back at her, eyes unblinking as she replied.

"Good Morning Rose." Oh Rose hated the expressionlessness her mother tended to use when she was angry. It was like the countdown to explosion – and there _would_ be an explosion.

"Is dad up yet?"

"No," Hermione's words were clipped and short. Not a good sign.

Rose watched the vein in her mother's forehead slowly become more prominent. The kitchen was silent save the gentle 'clinking' of the spoon in her mother's tea that was stirring itself. Rose took a deep breath and decided to gauge how deep she was in first – there was no need to go apologizing for things she had done if no one knew about them. She cleared her throat and bit her lip in anticipation.

"What are the chances that you haven't read this morning's paper yet?" she asked cautiously. She watched her mother's right eyebrow twitch as her lips pursed slightly more.

"Which paper would that be, Rose?" she asked in a tone that Rose was sure could freeze the Sahara. Hermione picked up the blasted copy of The Daily Prophet and held it up for Rose to see (right, like she hadn't seen that damn picture of her and Scorpius snogging enough).

"_This_ paper?" the words somehow managed to slip out past Hermione's gritted teeth. Rose cringed and held up her hands defensively, biting her lip so hard it almost bled. She thought for a few moments what, exactly, would be the best way to go about this.

"There is a perfectly good explanation for all of this," she said taking a cautious step further into the kitchen.

Hermione placed the paper down on the bench beside her gracelessly as she picked up her cup of tea.

"Enlighten me." Her eyes followed Rose over the top of her cup. Rose was bewildered how her mother managed to make sipping a cup of tea look threatening. She wrung her hands a few times and struggled to explain the events of the past 24 hours without her mother getting the wrong idea about her and Malfoy's little…non-relationship…_thing_.

"Let me just say that I'm not engaged," Rose congratulated herself on such a good starting place, "And there is nothing going on between Malfoy and I."

"Nothing between you two?" Hermione repeated in a tone that suggested she thought (_knew_) Rose was lying, one eyebrow raised menacingly.

"Nothing," Rose reiterated with a shake of her head (her mother _did not_ need to be informed about there little…rendezvous a few weeks back). She watched her mother's eyes flicker to the paper next to her meaningfully. Rose sighed heavily and walked towards the bench at which her mother sat – maybe if she got rid of the paper things would go smoother.

"That's not what it looks like," she pled lamely, snatching the paper and holding it beneath the bench-top so her mother could no longer see it. _Out of sight out of mind, s_he prayed internally.

"Really?" it was clear that Hermione wasn't buying any of the story, "Because it looks a great deal like you kissing Mr. Malfoy. Is that not what it is?"

Rose would never understand how her mother was able to use such roundabout language so early in the morning. It was hard enough for Rose to convince her that things weren't how they looked (or that they weren't as they _were _because Rose didn't think her mother would approve too much to that either) without her using such twisted sophisticated language. It was too early on a Saturday for this!

"Ok, well maybe that bit is a little bit like what it looks like," she winced as she watched her mother take in a deep breath like she did right before she released her '_I am so disappointed in you_' lecture, "But it didn't mean anything! And it only happened once!" _Liar_ "And it was just…you know…the…_atmosphere_…"

"Atmosphere?" Rose knew that had been the wrong word to use!

"No! Well not 'atmosphere', more like…" Oh Merlin if she were to be struck by lightening right now on this very spot she would not complain, "You know! I'd had a bit to drink."

"So you just decided to go around kissing random young men?" her voice was hitching – explosion imminent.

"No!" Rose defended quickly but found she didn't really have anything to back herself up with. "I mean…Scorpius isn't exactly a _random_. We work together…"

Rose mentally slapped herself. Repeatedly. That was _not_ how she was going to get out of this situation.

"Oh, so you only kissed a work colleague," Hermione's voice was rising slightly as sarcasm enveloped her words, "Well that makes things _much _better."

"Mum, look – I can explain."

"So you claimed before, but I am yet to hear any such thing."

"That's because you keep interrupting me!" Rose exclaimed quickly and immediately regretted it when she all but saw the steam puffing out her mother's ears, "Just give me a chance to tell you the story ok? I promise, there is a logical reason to this. It's all just one big misunderstanding."

Hermione stayed silent for a number of moments, visibly biting back a lecture she was just _bursting_ to unleash. Rose started to explain as soon as possible to try and avoid it.

"Ok, so Scorpius," she saw her mother blanch slightly at the use of his first name, "_Malfoy_, gave me the ring as a birthday present because he didn't want it and he was going to get rid of it, so he offered it to me and I took it because you know, its very pretty."

"So I can see," Hermione looked pointedly at where Rose's left hand sat on the bench top.

Fuck.

Fuck Fuck.

Fuckety Fuck.

Why oh why didn't she have the foresight to conceal the damn ring before coming over here? She fleetingly wondered if it was possible to Avada yourself.

"Yes well, um…"she carefully slid her hand under the bench to be shielded with the paper, "That's the thing. It's stuck you see."

To demonstrate Rose tugged at it forcefully, unsure whether it would be better or worse if it came off or not. It didn't budge so she hid her hand back under the bench-top again. Hermione remained silent and waited for her to continue explaining.

"And I only realized last night before afternoon tea, and me and Albus and Lily all tried to get it off," whoops, she probably shouldn't have mentioned the others, oh well – one in all in, "And nothing would work, so we decided the best way to get rid of it would be to go and see Scor – _Malfoy – _as soon as possible and get him to do the counter-spell or whatever because I really wanted to avoid having a conversation very similar to this one, so Lily charmed some of her robes for me and I went to the Gala to find Scorpius and get him to remove it, but when I got there he kept avoiding the subject and then he told me that he'd take it off if I danced with him, so I danced with him, and then we went outside and he said he couldn't get it off either and then we were arguing and then we…well…stopped arguing…and then he left and my robes were shrinking so I had to come home and apparently there was some insufferable git taking photos the whole time and has made everything look _much_ different to how it was."

Rose drew breath for the first time since she began her speech only to begin talking just as quickly once more.

"And now everyone's gotten the wrong idea and I am going to go down to The Daily Prophet offices as soon as I leave here and demand they print a retraction or else I'll sue for defamation because I am not, under any circumstances, engaged to Scorpius Malfoy, and I would really, _really_ love it if you could just not tell Dad because he doesn't need to know and it'll put unnecessary stress on his heart because it's not true anyway."

Hermione's face was still blank but Rose could hear her grinding her teeth in frustration and barely repressed rage.

"So what you're saying," she started slowly in a tone that told Rose she was not going to enjoy this conversation, "Is that you accepted a ring that you failed to recognize was a family heirloom off a work colleague, tried to cover up as much from your family, _lied_ to me in order to get to the Gala, allowed yourself to be manipulated by a Malfoy, cheated on your boyfriend, and still haven't solved your problem?"

Well when she said it like that it sounded awful. And Rose looked like an idiot. She didn't like it how her mother was able to do that to her. If she had told Aunty Luna she would have totally understood. And what was that dig about cheating? Rose wasn't a cheater. Hell she couldn't be even if she wanted to – it wasn't as if she had a…

_Oh._

Right, her family was still under the whole 'Henry' illusion. And her mother did love Henry. Well. This made things awkward.

"Um….no…no, that's not…um," Rose mentally slapped herself again and restarted her attempt dig herself out of this nice not-so-little hole she'd dug for herself, "Ok, yes I lied, but it's only because I was trying to avoid getting you all upset over this situation and I really, truly did think I could fix it without anyone else getting involved. And as far as the whole Henry thing goes well…"

Rose tried to think of a way that she could word it so her mother would not find it crude and/or brash. However, given it was a Saturday morning and her mind just wasn't working right at this hour, all she could come up with was 'occasional fuck buddy with whom I share nothing in common' and she knew that her mother _definitely_ would not approve of such liaisons. She decided to just bite the bullet and lie through her teeth.

"We're over," she said in a rush, "It just wasn't working out and we've decided to go our separate ways so I didn't cheat on him."

Hermione raised an unimpressed eyebrow and Rose suspected the hole she found herself in was about to get much, _much_ deeper. And probably start filling with water

"And you decided this in the 4 hours or so between afternoon tea yesterday and kissing young Mr. Malfoy at the Gala?" her mother's voice had developed a certain shrillness that Rose identified immediately – there was no more avoiding it, the Hermione Weasley bomb was about to explode.

"Um…" Rose bit her lip and winced as her mother stood, hands on the bench in front of her and unloaded.

"Really Rose, I expected more from you!" yep, here comes the guilt trip, "I would have thought that your father and I raised you better than to go around snogging random men as you see fit!"

Rose thought she would have taken her mother slightly more seriously had she not used the term 'snogging'. It just didn't seem fitting for Hermione Weasley to say 'snogging'. How did she even learn a word like snogging?

"He is your work colleague Rose – do you know how unprofessional this looks? What would Kingsley say?"

Right, because Kingsley, or as other mere mortals were required to call him, _The Minister of Magic_, would be really disappointed in her for kissing her work colleague. She thought the fact that her parents called him by his first name was indication alone that there was a separate set of rules for the Potter/Weasley's as far as Mr. Shacklebolt was concerned. And besides which, if Mr. Shacklebolt's greatest concern was Rose's choice of romantic partner (not that she was romantically linked with Malfoy in any way, shape, or form, but that was, admittedly, how it would appear to someone who didn't know better) then there was something very wrong with the man and he clearly didn't deserve the title of Minister of Magic anyway.

Rose kept her opinions to herself.

"Inter-office relations are strictly frowned upon and can lead to all kinds of problems in the long run."

"For Merlin's sake mum!" Rose exclaimed, finally finding her voice once more, "We're not in any kind of relationship!"

"Is that supposed to make it better?" Hermione shrieked back, "If anything it makes such blatant displays of affection _more _inappropriate!"

Now Rose was getting fed up – her mum just didn't understand how things were her and Scorpius. In fact Rose wasn't even sure how things between her and Scorpius were at the moment, and if she herself didn't know then there was no way Hermione could.

"It was one kiss!" Rose exclaimed, pacing angrily in the kitchen, "One stupid little mistake by both parties that didn't mean anything. And because of this stupid ring, everyone's gotten the wrong idea. We are _not_ in a relationship and we most certainly are _not_ engaged. I intend to go and get Scorpius – because I am sure he is as upset about these claims as I am – go down to The Daily Prophet offices, and demand that they print a retraction and a formal apology to set the record straight. I know what I did was stupid, but I am doing everything I can to fix it, so will you please just clam down and give me a little support on this, _please_!"

"Calm down?" Hermione sounded offended, "You _lied_ to me Rose."

"I had to!" she defended desperately, "You wouldn't have let me go otherwise and I needed to get the ring off my finger."

"But you didn't," Hermione's voice was eerily reminiscent of a very angry McGonagall, "Instead you went around kissing –"

"It's not as if I planned that!"

"Well he obviously did."

"No he didn't!" Rose could barely believe she was defending the man she herself was so furious with, but there was something in her chest that told her she had to, "The ring is just a joke that went too far. And the kiss was a spontaneous mistake; we both regret it and it's not going to happen again."

"I should hope not," Hermione said shortly. Rose bit back any scathing comment before she did irreparable damage and tried to get back on track.

"I'm quite aware of the mess I've made, mum," she said quietly, looking at her mother defiantly, "But I can't undo it. All I can do now is try to fix it the best I can which is what I am trying to do."

Hermione was silent; the sound of air passing through her nostrils the only indication that she was still alive.

"I didn't go about things in the best way, and I am truly sorry I lied to you, but believe me when I say I didn't think I had any other choice," Rose watched as the vein in her mother's head slowly started to recede and thanked her lucky stars. There was a beat of uneasy silence between them before her mother sat and spoke in a softer, yet still firm, tone.

"You do realize that I will be expecting the full story concerning yourself and Henry when this is all taken care of," Hermione's eyebrow rose menacingly as she reached for her cup of tea again. Rose let out a sigh.

"There really isn't much more to –"

"The _full_ story," Hermione looked at her with eyes that suggested she should agree for the safety of her ears lest another lecture be unleashed.

"Right," Rose agreed, "The full story."

Hermione nodded in approval and took a long sip of her tea. Rose rubbed her temple and felt the beginning of a killer migraine setting in. Great, that was just what she needed.

"I am trying to fix this," Rose whispered softly, her voice defeated. Her mother gave a soft smile for the first time that morning and nodded vaguely.

"I know, dear," she scowled at the paper Rose still held in her hand, "I'm just disappointed."

Right. _Just_. Like that made it all better.

"I know."

Rose walked back towards the front of the house. She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and turned back to face her mother whose eyes were still trained on her retreating form.

"You won't tell Dad will you?" Rose asked in a voice so small she was surprised her mother heard it at all. Hermione let out a steady breath.

"No, but I can't guarantee no one else will," she gestured to a basket next to the window on the bench behind her, "We've already received a number of owls congratulating us."

Rose groaned but thanked Merlin it wasn't the same amount as she'd received.

"Just give me the day," she promised as she started to walk back to the front room to apparate, "After today it will all be sorted!"

"I hope so," Hermione murmured into her tea before calling, "Good-bye Rose!"

"Bye mum!"

Rose reached the lounge room and prepared herself to leave. Well that could have gone better, but at least her father still didn't know. Hopefully convincing Scorpius to come to the Prophet Offices wouldn't be as difficult.

Who was she kidding? _Nothing_ was going to be more difficult or awkward than explaining the situation to her mother. And besides, no matter how much fun Malfoy was having with her wearing his ring – or that whole marking thing…Rose tried to think about that as few times as possible – she was sure even he didn't want the whole wizarding community thinking they were engaged.

With an ounce of courage and several prayers, Rose apparated out of her parent's lounge room to Scorpius' apartment building.

* * *

><p>Rose tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the door to open. She had knocked on his door no less than five times in the past two and a half minutes and he <em>still<em> hadn't answered. Bloody twat. She knew he had to be in there. It was a Saturday morning for crying out loud! Nobody moved anywhere quickly on a Saturday morning. No one sane anyway.

She knocked once more and tapped her foot a little quicker.

Still no response.

For a very brief and entirely unpleasant moment, Rose thought that perhaps he was so slow in answering the door because he was _entertaining_ someone of the female persuasion. She tried to ignore the boiling fury and undeniable disappointment that little unwelcome thought initiated in the pit of her stomach, not allowing herself the time nor the energy to figure out why, exactly, it made her feel that way.

Rose knocked again.

Still nothing.

She was sure he wasn't entertaining someone. He couldn't be. He said he wanted her to be his – not that she _was_, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted her to be – he couldn't just go off and take some woman to bed after proclaiming as such, now could he? It would just be wrong. Yes, very, _very_ wrong. Even for Malfoy, that would be low.

Another knock.

No response.

After all, it wasn't as if she had walked away from him. No, no – it had been _him_ who left _her _standing out in the courtyard wanting more (at that point in time when she was completely out of her mind. Normally she didn't want him at all…_She didn't_). If either of them had the right to go and grab some random to take home to bed it was her, not him. Not that she cared if he had, because she didn't think of him that way, it was just that it would be unjust to woman everywhere. And as a woman she would feel low and cheated. Just as a woman. Not specifically as herself. Just a woman. That was all.

Rose knocked again, even harder this time and called out an angry '_Malfoy!'_ to hurry him up.

She glanced at the paper she had taken from her parents' place and scowled again. This was just ridiculous, and she needed it to be taken care of as soon as possible. Rose simply could not have people thinking her and Malfoy were engaged. And the longer this bogus story was circulating, the more people were going to read it, the more people they would have to convince otherwise. She was worried how hard it was going to be to convince them as such – it had been hard enough to get her mother to see reason, she could only imagine how hard it would be to convince all the people who didn't actually know her and the fact that she had standards. Really – what self-respecting, well-educated, intelligent woman would allow herself to fall for Malfoy and his smarmy charms? What capable, savvy, level-headed girl would ever allow herself to feel _anything_ for Malfoy, so much so that she would actually agree to be bound to him for the rest of her life? No one, that's who. And Rose considered herself a respectable, educated, intelligent, level-headed modern woman and therefore did not, in any way, shape or form, want to be in a committed relationship with Mr. Scorpius Malfoy. Not at all.

Rose was about to physically force her way through his door when it opened to reveal a disheveled Scorpius Malfoy.

No, scratch that. The door opened to reveal a disheveled Scorpius Malfoy dressed only in some baggy pajama pants.

It was at that very second that Rose's brain shut down. She was unable to do anything besides admire the man in front of her. She admired the way his hair stuck out at odd angles, and the surprising amount of curls that were springing free all over his scalp. And his eyes, which were still dark and barely adjusted to the light. And his chest, which was just…well she was surprised how a man who held an office job could keep himself that defined. It wasn't fair. Not that she was particularly complaining at present. On the contrary, she was finding it hard to do anything but stare.

An interesting and all together distracting thought flittered into Rose's mind. As she stood there staring at and admiring the man before her, she realized an incredible truth – she had had that. All that she saw before her – all the muscle, all the allure, all the sexiness, which there was a great deal of – had once been all hers. Those arms had held her, that chest had been pressed against her own, those lips…well…they had done a great many things to her, none of which she thought were (or at least should be) legal. The realization hit her hard, totally perplexing her, and made it even more difficult for her to remember why exactly she was here.

Rose suddenly felt herself feeling very scared and unsure. She wasn't prepared for this. She had only ever encountered this version of Scorpius – sexy, alluring, totally tempting Scorpius – once before and we all knew how that ended. She was used to sleazy, cheeky Malfoy that, whilst she found him somewhat attractive (how could you not when he looked like that?) he was _nothing _compared to what she was faced with here. This…_specimen _before her was a whole different league.

"Rosie?" his voice drew her back to the present but unfortunately didn't break the fog clouding her mental capacity. She simply stared up at his eyes which were doing that strange _warm_ thing again. She didn't like it when his eyes looked warm, it was all sorts of disarming. Rose watched the smirk crawl up his cheek as he leant across the doorframe and crossed his arms.

"When I said '_Accio Beautiful_' I didn't think it would actually work."

There it was. The sleazy Malfoy pick-up line she needed to get her back on common ground and kick start her brain into action. She shook her head slightly before holding up the offending paper in her hand, deciding to skip all the preamble and get right down to business.

"Did you see this?" she asked, as she waved the paper around wildly. He raised an eyebrow, squinted at the madly flailing paper before he shrugged and turned to walk back into his apartment. Rose didn't like how casual he was.

"Nope," he called over his shoulder, assuming she would just follow him inside. Rose 'hurmph'-ed indignantly at his presumption and his pompous sexy strut as she followed him inside. She shut the door behind her (possibly with more force than strictly necessary) just in case there was anyone lurking in the hallways hoping to get more god-awful pictures of the two of them together. Not that Rose was going to allow him to kiss her again today. No siree! Last night was a total lack in judgment brought on by that one glass of wine she had and her severe lack of sleep. Yes, that was it. So as long as she avoided consuming any alcohol than all should go well. Considering it was the ripe time of 9:15, she was fairly confident she could stay sober for their hopefully brief interaction.

Scorpius continued to walk towards his kitchen, ignoring her presence. Rose grabbed his arm and spun his round to face her. He seemed slightly taken aback by her forwardness but didn't get a chance to comment. She thrust the paper into his chest and scowled at him.

"Read," she ordered. Scorpius (wisely) chose to say nothing, instead simply taking the paper from where it was sandwiched between her hand and his chest. Rose watched his every movement with great anticipation and scrutiny.

Scorpius read the article, his eyes narrowing as he processed the words in front of him. Rose took the moment to have a brief look around his apartment – she'd only been in here once and last time she was…well….she wasn't exactly concerned with his interior decorating, let's just say that. In fact being back here brought back all sorts of memories that caused her to blush lightly. Like how the eastern wall felt when you were pressed against it, for example. She went back to assessing his choice in décor to try and pull her mind back to the present before Malfoy picked up on the fact that she was blushing. The sadistic bastard would no doubt get all amounts of pleasure from it.

_Oh Merlin don't think the 'p'-word, that's just asking for troublesome and inappropriate memories._

Rose shook her head slightly and forced her eyes away from a shirtless Malfoy to the apartment once more. To say she was surprised by what she saw was an understatement. There was an impressive collection of books along an array of fashionably mismatched shelves at odd angels on entire west wall, ranging from fiction to what could only be considered to be advanced textbooks. Rose even spied one or two cleverly disguised Muggle Studies book and a small yet elitist collection of Muggle literature, something she found a little odd to say the very least. In fact there was a surprising amount of random muggle objects around the room. Rose spied a small analogue clock on one of the shelves that didn't appear to work, a wonky old lamp that's shade was patchy and lop-sided, and an old round-dial telephone that clearly wasn't plugged into anything_. _She thought it incredibly strange that he would keep such artifacts; surely his father wouldn't approve.

His entire apartment was stylishly messy – little benches at odd angles covered in various notes and supplies of the finest quality, reading glasses perched precariously on the side of a coffee table on top of this month's issue of _Quidditch International_, a hat stand adorned with expensive coats and accessories, pot plants that were large but not un-kept. There was an old – but far from inexpensive – wooden dining table to one side towards the kitchen that didn't look like it had ever been used, surrounded by four equally unused (and equally antique) chairs. Mismatched photographs littered the shelves, and the entire place was filled with so much natural light from the surrounding windows and kitchen skylight that everything seemed to glow in the cool November sun. For a man that always dressed in simplistically elegant suits and dress robes, Scorpius' apartment was filled with an incredible amount of _stuff,_ none of it matching, yet all of it fitting together in its odd mix of beige, white and splashes of eclectic color.

The entire space made that cursed warm feeling return to Rose's stomach and made her wish dearly she lived here in such an elegant mess as well. The last remaining logical part of her brain shot down that thought and angrily buried it somewhere in the back of her mind where she was certain never to dig it up again.

Rose was brought back to the reason she was here when Scorpius spoke.

"Well that's just ridiculous," he muttered, eyes narrowing on the article in a manner that suggested he found it offensive.

"I know!" Rose exclaimed, glaring at the photograph of them in the center dancing, "It's preposterous!"

"Indeed," Scorpius said with a shake of his head. Rose was about to suggest that they march down to The Daily Prophet head offices right now and demand they issue a written apology on the front page of tomorrow's paper when his voice stopped her once more.

"They're black diamonds, not _onyx_."

There was a beat of silence as Rose tried to process whether he was attempting to be funny or not. She looked up at him slowly, clenching her jaw together for fear of literally biting his head off. She looked at the placid, almost lazy expression filling his features as he continued to peruse the paper in front of him.

"What?" she barely recognized the voice that left her mouth it was so heavy with anger and warning. Scorpius looked at her momentarily and then nodded to the ring adorning her finger.

"The black stones in your ring," he clarified without conviction, "They're black diamonds, not onyx like this ignorant bint has claimed. Really, someone obviously didn't do their research."

Rose's mouth gaped open as she stared at him incredulously.

"Really?" she finally said, hands on her hips, "_That's_ what you complain about?"

Scorpius looked at her with that same bored expressionlessness before quirking an eyebrow, apparently truly confused. Oh the nerve of the man.

"They're claiming that we're engaged, and the one little thing you complain about is that they got something about your precious ring wrong?" Rose's chest was heaving by the time she'd finished yelling at him and when she saw him subtly glance at her cleavage she cursed herself for not pulling on something that covered her more adequately than the flimsy tank top.

Scorpius shook his head before heading into his kitchen, turning his back on her.

"Its not _my_ ring anymore Rosie," he called over his shoulder, "It's _yours._"

"The hell it is!" she called angrily, stomping into his kitchen, still a little put out by his carefree approach to the whole situation. She watched him delicately place the paper on the bench in the center of the kitchen before pouring himself a glass of water from a large decanter beside his sink.

"Drink?" he asked her flippantly over his shoulder once more.

"No!" Rose cried indignantly, "No I do _not_ want a drink! I want you to take this damn ring off my finger and come with me to the Prophet offices to set the story straight!"

He turned to face her casually, taking his time as he swallowed the liquid slowly. Rose tried not to stare at his bobbing Adam's apple, instead staring him in the eye. He smirked at her as he placed his glass beside him, casual as ever, and crossed his arms as he leant back against the counter.

"I'm as upset as you are that they got the stones wrong," he said with a smirk, "but don't you think it could wait until Monday?"

"What?" Rose screeched, "I'm not talking about some stupid little detail about the ring, Scorpius! I'm talking about the fact everyone seems to think we're engaged!"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow in mock confusion as he shrugged him shoulders.

"Why is that such a bad thing?" he smiled at her almost sincerely. Rose gaped unattractively for several seconds before throwing her arms in the air.

"Because we're not!"

He stood tall again and began to walk towards her. No, not walk, _stalk._ He had a gleam in his eyes again that Rose recognized all too well. It was very similar to how he had looked at her last night, and judging by how things worked out then, she doubted very much that it meant good things for her now.

"Really?" he stated it as if he was genuinely asking her opinion. The nerve of the man!

"Yes!" she said indignantly, cursing herself for stepping backwards slightly as he leisurely continued forward. He hummed in contemplation as he advanced further.

"And what gave you that idea?" he asked in a voice she was sure was deeper than it had been moments ago.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously to which he simply shrugged and smirked again.

"What gave you the idea that we're not engaged?"

Rose's head immediately filled with thousands of answers – such as 'I consider myself an intelligent life-form and hence know better than to enter into any kind of relationship with a Malfoy' – but she couldn't seem to force any coherent reason out. Not when he was staring at her like that.

"Well you haven't asked," she ended up saying lamely. Scorpius smirked and looked contemplative for a moment.

"I asked you to be mine, you agreed, then I gave you a ring, which you accepted," it was only when he looked down at her that Rose realized he had somehow managed to trap her between himself and the arm of his couch, "Isn't that usually how people get engaged?"

"No! _Normally_ the man would say something along the lines of '_Will you marry me?'_" she dragged out each word as she glared at him, "So that way the girl actually knows what he's talking about."

Scorpius shrugged and smiled at her which she all but scoffed at – she was angry dammit! Not even his perfectly sparkly teeth could convince her otherwise.

"Well we've never really been normal now have we Rosie?" he continued before she could berate him for the use of the nickname, "This whole relationship of ours is a little bent."

"YOU THINK?" he continued as if she hadn't spoken/screeched.

"And besides," he smiled at her again and seemed to lean a little closer to her, "You don't just want a run-of-the-mill boring old engagement now do you?"

"I'd prefer it to one I'm not even aware of," she said, hand finding its place on her hip.

"Oh come on," he was definitely closer now, "When we're grey and old and telling our grandchildren how we got together, do you really just want to say 'He asked me to, so I said yes'? This is a much better story."

Rose was frozen in place, eyes focused solely on those of the man standing before her. There were an insurmountable number of things wrong with that passage, the most prominent of which being '_Our grandchildren'_.

As in _theirs. _

Her and Scorpius' _kids'_ kids.

What the hell was that? (And why did it make her tummy tingle when he said it?)

Rose spluttered incredibly unattractively for several moments before recovering enough to force out two decipherable words.

"_Our Grandchildren?"_ she exclaimed with a look of total confusion, her voice at least an octave higher than it had been a few moments ago. Scorpius shrugged casually, taking her momentary bafflement to place his hands on the arm of the couch either side of her, caging her in.

"Yes, I was thinking at least twelve – grand kids that is," he clarified quickly with a grin, "Immediate children I say about three, maybe four. A nice respectable number. Enough to carry on the bloodline but not so many that we could have our own Quidditch team. "

Rose continued to stare at him – he'd lost his mind he had. A Malfoy and a Weasley reproducing _together?_ Why the world would implode she was sure. Hell would freeze over. She was brought back from the brink of no return when he spoke once more.

"And they'll all be Slytherin of course."

That triggered something. She crossed her arms and stood up a little taller, completely unaware of the fact that it brought their bodies – notably their lips – closer together. Scorpius wasn't. He smiled and slid his hands closer to her.

"The hell they will be!" Rose argued, "At least one of my children will be in Gryffindor. Or Ravenclaw."

"Ok," Scorpius conceded with a smirk, his hands now sneaking up to rest at the base of her back softly "One can be the dark, noble sheep. Just as long as it's only one and he's not in Hufflepuff."

He shuffled slightly closer as she raised an eyebrow, a smirk he was sure she had picked up from him sliding up the side of her face.

"What if it's a girl?" she challenged him, as if daring him to make a crack about male superiority. Scorpius may have been mischievous, but he didn't have a death wish. He smirked back at her and tried to subtly pull her a little closer to him.

"Malfoys always have sons."

"Weasleys have a mix."

He smiled at her quick comeback as he began to dip his head closer to her slowly.

"Fine – of our three or four kids, two or three will be sons and they'll be in Slytherin." He was close enough to count her eyelashes, "The other one can be a girl and you can raise her along the righteous path of the Gryffindor," almost there, and she hadn't seemed to have noticed yet, "Or Ravenclaw. Whichever floats your boat."

Rose internally scoffed – only someone as arrogant as Malfoy would assume something he had absolutely no control over (such as the gender of their hypothetical children) would simply turn out how he wanted. It was absurd. Although, Rose thought, given that it was Malfoy and things seemed to just have a habit of falling into place for him, it would probably turn out that way anyway. Stupid git.

Rose wondered momentarily why she was so breathless. Then she realized it may have something to do with the fact that she was just about to be kissed by Scorpius Malfoy. Yep, that would do it.

Wait.

_WHAT?_

Rose let out an awkward squeak before pushing Malfoy back away from her. He smirked and raised an eyebrow at her, his arms still locked loosely around her waist.

"Something wrong Weasley?" he asked with amusement filling his tone. Rose tried to recover her breath and sanity, which has apparently deserted her in her hour of need.

"Wrong? Yes!" she exclaimed, still put off by his nearness and the funny warmth under her hands, "There is a great deal of somethings wrong! Like you! And this! And…and...and…"

Apparently the mechanism in her brain that enabled her to produce coherent speech had run off with her sanity. Traitorous bastards.

"_Our grandchildren?_" she squealed and was infuriated by the smile filling Scorpius' features, "We won't have any grandchildren! And we won't have any children because we are not, nor will we ever be, _romantically involved!"_

There was a beat of silence in which Rose realized the strange warmth under her hands was Scorpius' chest. Scorpius' _bare_ chest. She wrenched her hands away from his anatomy and glued them to her sides. Scorpius tried to bite back the comment that so desperately wanted to escape his lips. He failed.

"The readers of the Daily Prophet and the general wizarding community at large would say otherwise," he said softly with merriment dancing in his eyes.

"Which is exactly why you have to take this ring back and set the story straight," she pushed him away from her and headed towards the door. He turned and caught her arm, spinning her to face him once more. Her look of surprise was met by a playful grin.

"Have I ever told you how adorable you look when you're angry?" he made to step closer to her but she simply pulled her arm free and scowled at him.

"Well you're gunna be faced with a whole lot of adorable if you don't do what I say," she threatened coldly. He let out a low growl and tugged her almost comically against his chest, forcing her to wrap her arms around his shoulders to steady herself. He dipped his head into the crook of her neck and ran his lips and nose along her skin quickly, teasingly.

"I just knew you'd have dominatrix tendencies," he murmured into her neck with a smirk, "I gotta admit; it's turning me on."

She pushed him away from her and slapped him across the face on impulse. He looked a little shocked, as did she, but he quickly covered it with a predatory grin.

"You're just reinforcing my point, Rosie," he murmured in a tone that she told herself was not making her breath hitch, "In more ways than one."

"You are so inappropriate," she gave him a disgusted look to which he simply smiled boyishly.

"Inappropriate is sexy," he affirmed.

"Try annoying."

"I did, but it never got me far," he stepped back to sit on the arm of his couch lazily and Rose was fairly sure she had never seen anyone look so attractive, "Sexy works a lot better."

"Well it's not working now," well that was a blatant lie. He seemed to recognize as such.

"Pretty sure it is."

"Pretty sure its not," Rose congratulated herself on sounding mildly convincing the second time.

His voice took on an almost melodious quality as he placed his hand over where normal people had a heart but Malfoy had a great big hole (Rose was sure of it).

"Then why haven't you left yet, my love?"

"Because I am not leaving without you – we are going down to the Daily Prophet and getting this all sorted out!" she realized her heart rate had risen and she was getting all kinds of frustrated so she added, "And don't call me that."

"Why not, my love?" there it was, that melodious overly-dramatic tone again, "Dost thou have a pet name thou prefer-eth?"

Rose rolled her eyes and jutted out her hip, an action that did not go unnoticed. "You are such a pompous arse."

His eyes darkened and his smile widened. "And you love it."

"No, I really don't."

"Oh come on!" he leapt off the arm of the couch gracefully and began to strut towards her, a playful twinkle in his eye, "Like all this fighting hasn't made you horny."

"Scorpius!" she exclaimed, outraged. He closed his eyes and took in a dramatically deep breath, before letting out a hefty sigh and opening his darkened eyes.

"Yes, say it again Rose," his voice was deeper and more alluring as he walked towards her, "_Scream_ my name."

"Scorpius!" She meant it to scold him, but then realized it was exactly what he wanted.

"Gods _yes!_ Again!" He was only a few feet from her now and the way he was so blatantly pretending to be turned on was undoing her – even if she knew it was a ruse, it was doing terrible things to the pit of her stomach and her toes seemed to be curling on their own accord.

"I'm leaving!" she announced and turned back towards the door, hurrying towards it to escape him. She opened it quickly, but not before he could get one more in edgeways.

"Before or after we have crazy sex against the door?" he called with a cheeky smile that she didn't see.

"Argh!"

* * *

><p>Scorpius smiled to himself as Rose slammed the door shut and he listened to her disapparate from the corridor. He hadn't been forced to deny their relationship, he got her talking about their children for a few blissful seconds, had almost kissed her, she didn't deny that she was turned on by all their fighting, and he had all of his body parts attached and unscathed in any serious way.<p>

Mission accomplished.

* * *

><p>Rose landed in her apartment with the beginnings of one hell of a migraine. She had decided to come home briefly to try and quell the constant throbbing in her head before going to the Prophet offices and demand a reprint. She walked to her bathroom and tried to look for something to stem the pain when she heard a knock at her door. The first thought she had was that if it was Malfoy she was going to hex his balls off. She cursed herself for thinking of him and stomped to her door. She threw it open with a snarl and groaned at who she was met with.<p>

Henry stood holding a copy of the Prophet, shoulders rigid and face dark as thunder. If she never saw that photograph again it would be too soon. His tone was condescending and dark when he finally spoke.

"Something you want to share, Rose?"

Rose got the feeling her migraine was about to get a whole lot worse.

* * *

><p><em>Ta da! Well that's all for now – next chapter will be an indefinite amount of time away, but hopefully not as long as last time. <em>

_If you want to make me very happy, please leave a review – I would absolutely love to hear what you think. Thank you!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello All! Right. I need to start with apologies._

_First up, sorry this is so attrociously late! I swear i meant to have it uploaded a month ago but things happened and life intervened and i have been desperately trying to get it finished to post for a very long time. All things considered, its very rushed and probably loaded with errors. Please forgive me!_

_Another apology - i know a lot of you aren't going to like this because you've been waiting so long, but this chapter ain't great. It's one of those boring but necessary filler chapters and is notably Scorpius-free. So sorry, but it probably won't be quite the chapter you've all been waiting for. I sincerely hope you can enjoy it all the same._

_Also, just to make this AN bigger, I feel like i need to defend myself a little here. My Scorose stories have been rated M for a reason - they are probs not suitable for people under 16 years so if you're not, don't read them. I do not mean to offend, but if you don't wanna read about sexual tension or "intimate" scenarios than turn away now. I've done all I can to stop you - the rest is up to you._

_**Disclaimer:** i don't own these characters, as we all know, but i also need to give everyone a heads up that i don't own some of the material towards the end - the is the very fine work of William Shakespeare. I did not invent it myself but i honour and love the bard for providing us with such brilliant work.  
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_You know what i would love more than anything in the world? if you all reviewed. This one's almost over taken Excuses in number of reviews and I'd kinda like it to. So yeah, hit that button and lemme know what you think, yeah? Thank you!_

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><p>Lulu Snorklebort had had a most fabulous morning. Despite the fact she had to be in at the office at 5:30 to get the stories from the Halloween Gala the night before, her daily tea-leave reading with her morning crumpet had given her reason to believe she was about to come into some good fortune as long as a lion did not interfere. She had thought nothing of it though – after all, just last week she had been warned that terrible <em>mis<em>fortune would befall her at the hands of a giraffe, and the week of her mother's birthday she had been told the weather would be positively enhanced by a seal. Lulu had come to ignore any and all tea-leave readings involving exotic animals, so she had not expected any fortune to befall her – lion-spoiled or otherwise.

Therefore, to say she was pleasantly surprised when she happened to stumble across possibly the biggest scoop in 20 years, and easily the biggest of her career as head writer for the society pages at _The Daily Prophet,_ would have been a sizable understatement. In fact it would have been the understatement of the century.

Rose Weasley, daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Weasley (nee Granger) saviors of the free wizarding world, was engaged to none other than Scorpius Malfoy, son of former Death Eater and exceedingly private businessman Draco Malfoy. She even had photos to prove it.

Seriously, nothing in the world could stop the unbridled happiness she felt whenever she looked at the copy of the paper with _her_ article (well, technically not the article, but the photo that had specific _directions_ to her article) on the very front page.

Or so she thought, until she received an unexpected visitor.

Just as she was contemplating whether a white or black frame would be most appropriate for her framed copy of this morning's paper she was planning to hang above her desk (and possibly above her bed at home), Lulu's attention was drawn to a knock at the open door of her office. She looked up from the two sample frames she held before her to see a tall man dressed impeccably – he wore a beige-colored jacket and perfectly fitted pants, with crisp white shirt and light blue tie tucked carefully behind a gold embossed cream vest, all covered by a sapphire blue travelling cloak of the very best material. Lulu was a woman who knew her robes and fabrics – one had to when they wrote the Society pages you see – and she could tell, even from a distance, that these were clearly the work of the very best tailors and Twilfit and Tattings.

One did not happen across a gold-embossed vest just _anywhere_ after all.

It was the kind of ensemble only self-assured arrogance that specifically accompanied a particular breed of high aristocracy could (or would dare attempt to) pull off. When her eyes finally fell upon his face, Lulu knew the man before her was a part of that very inner circle of the wizarding community that one did not simply work their way into – the only way _in_ was by blood or marriage. Lulu knew this because she recognized the man that had walked into her office at approximately 10:13am instantaneously. After all, she had been responsible for having his face printed all over the front of the paper just this morning.

"Miss. Snorklebort," Scorpius Malfoy, partial cause of her morning's euphoria and all around owner of fabulous robes, addressed her politely with a casual smile she thought the photos really didn't do justice. She adjusted her glasses and counted to three before replying, ensuring she gave her brain enough time to force out coherent words and not just a mumbled sentence of mismatched syllables as she was prone to doing when in the company of attractive men.

"Mr. Malfoy, please come in," she was proud she sounded to articulate as she rose to shake his hand as he entered her office, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's about your article this morning," he began, an odd glint that Lulu wasn't quite sure how to interpret lighting his eyes. He gestured behind him to where an aging man with blatantly expensive (but thoroughly boring) grey robes stood in the doorway. He looked down at her through his monocle as he clutched a stack of very official looking rolls of parchment in his arms. She hadn't even noticed him before, too distracted by how well the young Malfoy heir pulled off blue and beige.

"Do you mind if my associate joins us?"

Now she was suspicious – her journalist-senses were tingling. Lulu raised her eyebrows in question as the man checked his pocket watch none too discretely.

"Of course!" she noticed her voice had risen at least an octave and tried to control it when she spoke again, "And you are?"

The man advanced towards her and held out his hand to shake.

"Mr. Leo Arden," _Beware of lions! Beware of lions!_ _BEWARE OF LIONS! _"Friend of the Malfoy family and current member of the Wizengamot."

Lulu's eyes widened as she looked back to Scorpius who had seated himself in a chair before her desk, legs crossed casually over one another and that same mischievous glint in his eye.

"I wonder, Miss. Snorklebort," he began with a smile, "If you wouldn't mind summoning The Chief Editor. Mr. Arden and myself have some things we would like to…_discuss_ with the two of you."

Oh Spite.

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><p>Rose sent a silent prayer out to anyone or anything up above that was willing to listen and take pity on her and just make Henry disappear. She did <em>not<em> feel up to dealing with him and his ego right now.

Unsurprisingly, no heavenly body was listening. Or if they were, they wanted her to suffer.

Stupid metaphysical bastards.

Not waiting to be invited in, Henry pushed past Rose, chest heaving and cheeks red in anger as he marched into her apartment like he was walking onto his beloved Quidditch pitch. Rose rolled her eyes and shut the door with a little more force than was strictly necessary. If he was going to act like a spoiled three year old then she would too.

He turned to face her, robes billowing behind him dramatically as he held the paper to his chest. His brown eyes fixed on her sternly as he exhaled heavily through his nose. She found it awfully unattractive. Henry stared at her for a moment or two, so Rose just stared back. She crossed her arms and jutted out her hip, bracing for his spiel. He raised his eyebrows at her and held up the paper once more.

"_Well?!_" he said expectantly. Rose simply raised her eyebrows back and shrugged, indicating that she didn't know what he was talking about. She had a fairly good idea, but she'd be damned if she was going to start this inevitably uncomfortable conversation. Henry scoffed at her ignorance and flicked a lock of his annoyingly shiny hair out of his eyes in a manner she was sure other women found stunningly attractive. She just found it annoying.

"I think you owe me an explanation, or, at the very least, an apology," his tone was scathing as he looked down on her from across the room.

The pounding in her head grew louder.

"For what?" she asked, hoping that her continued ignorance would piss him off – if she was pissed off someone else should be too. It seemed unfair that she had to be furious this early on a Saturday all on her own – might as well ruin someone else's day as well.

"For what?!" her plan worked brilliantly, "Gee, lets have a guess shall we?"

She didn't think sarcasm became him – he didn't have the shoulders or nonchalance to pull off sarcasm well. Scorpius could pull off sarcasm. Henry could not.

Rose mentally slapped herself for thinking of the devil spawn who put her in this mess in the first place.

"How about _this_?!" he pointed animatedly to the picture on the front of the paper like a presenter on one of those muggle children's show. Rose internally scoffed at his dramatics – it was too early on a Saturday for dramatics.

"Like you even care," she said flatly. Henry had the audacity to look appalled and hurt. He spluttered very unattractively for several moments before placing his hand over his heart.

"Of course I care!" he exclaimed animatedly, "My _girlfriend_ is on the front cover of the Daily Prophet snogging another man, and not just any man – _a Malfoy!"_

"Oh so I am your girlfriend now, am I?" Rose asked with bite, quirking an eyebrow in challenge.

"Of course you are!" he exclaimed loudly, still looking incredulous, "We've been together for…for…"

"Hmmm?" Rose raised an eyebrow in challenge – she would just love to see him try and remember when they had started supposedly dating. Henry clearly faltered momentarily before regaining his composure and air of affluence.

"…A very long time," he protested lamely before gathering steam and jumping back on his high horse, "And I would expect more from my girlfriend than to go around kissing Malfoys!"

Rose rolled her eyes and momentarily caught sight of her apartment. Oh Merlin it was plain. She didn't have any stylishly mismatched shelving adorned with fashionably disjointed muggle items. There was no large antique table and chairs sitting majestically in the corner. And it wasn't illuminated with natural light that gave everything an ethereal glow. It was plain, boring. It didn't make her heart sing or her soul sigh. It was entirely uninspiring, and Rose simply could not live in an uninspiring environment. Maybe she could go and get some old muggle stuff off Grandpa Weasley? Maybe a nice big 'Grandfather' clock, or even a television! Rose made a mental note to contact Grandpa Weasley once this whole thing had blown over.

She looked back to Henry and saw him looking at her as if she'd just dropped a thousand galleon vase. Oh that's right, he had been saying something hadn't he? She blinked back at him and was about to retort when he continued, pacing angrily around her (really quite bland) apartment.

"First you barely speak two words to me at Afternoon Tea with the family yesterday," he began with a wave of his arms. _The family? _No, not _the _family – _her _family. He was not part of it, and he never would be. And perhaps the reason she hadn't spoken more than two words to him was because she couldn't get a word in edgeways between him talking to her mother about policy changes, her father about the Cannon's finals chances, and anyone within earshot who looked mildly interested about himself. She would have told him so if he hadn't continued his rant.

"Then you don't even ask if I want you to accompany me to the Cannon's official Halloween Party," right, like she should just invite herself along to one of his Quidditch functions, oh yes – that would have gone down splendidly, "Instead you go along to the Ministry of Magic's Halloween Gala – the _most prestigious_ magical event of the year, with international guests and dignitaries and a guest-list that is harder to get onto than a Hungarian Horntail – something that you assured me you would never get an invite to due to your parents' strict rules about plus-ones. And while you're there – actually dressed up properly for once – you get to mingle with some of the most powerful and influential wizards in the world without me! And then – _and then_ – you dance and snog _Scorpius Malfoy_ – the heir apparent to the one of the wizarding world's most dastardly families still in existence – for the entire world to see!"

Rose took a moment to process what Henry had just complained about. It took her a moment to realize what he was actually upset with her over – it wasn't the fact that she'd 'cheated' on him, it was who she had done it with and where. She tried to remind herself why, in the name of all things magical, had she _ever _thought it was a good idea to make his acquaintance let alone allow him to see her naked.

"I mean really Rose," he looked away from her and to some place in the distance as his imagine began to concoct visions of himself, "I could have been there mingling with the Quidditch International Board Members – could have convinced them to look at me as a prime candidate for Player of the Year, maybe even a spot in the Hall of Fame…"

Rose's jaw dropped. He was seriously thinking about his _career_? The entire wizarding community was currently under the impression that she was engaged to another man and all he was worried about was missing an opportunity to talk himself up? _Really?_

"I could have spoken with Shacklebolt," that's _The Minister of Magic_ to you Mister, Rose thought spitefully, "about getting a position in the Ministry after my career finished. Obviously that's not going to be for a solid ten years yet…"

Rose thought he would be lucky to get another four, after all, if his head got much bigger his broom wouldn't be able to lift him off the ground.

"But you can never start prepping for these things too early," he began to pace and continued to look off into the distance, leading her to believe that he genuinely wasn't aware of her presence any longer, "I'd have petitioned for my own office of course, and a position where I would be at my best use – in some position of power, obviously, as I _am_ a natural born leader."

Rose could think of several other things he was, natural or otherwise, but she was fairly sure he wouldn't boast about any of them.

"The clear starting point of my post-Quiddtich career would be in the Department of Magical Games and Sports," he had a small almost bittersweet smile across his face as he gazed off out the window and Rose could have sworn his head was inflating right before her very eyes, "Although I'd be of supreme use anywhere, just as long as it wasn't some desk job at the Department of International Magic Cooperation – I couldn't think of anything more dull or irrelevant than such a job…"

He didn't just say that. Surely. _Surely_ he knew that she worked at the Department of International Magic Cooperation. _Surely_, during their however many months spent together he had, at some point in time, paid attention to her long enough to know that she worked at the very department he was currently slandering. Merlin his head really was up his arse.

"I would fly through the ranks, obviously, in fact I envisage I'd be one of the top officials, if not the Minister myself by my thirty-second, maybe thirty-fifth birthday…"

If his head got much bigger Rose didn't think there'd be enough air in the room for her to breathe.

"All the networking I could have done, Rose!"

Oh, so he was aware she was still here? How nice.

He turned to face her, disappointment and frustration etched into his (not even that handsome) features.

"But that opportunity has been ruined because _you_ didn't invite me to accompany you!" he spoke to her like she was some petulant child or disobedient teenager or something. The point was that he was talking down to her and she didn't appreciate it. Not one bit.

She took a step towards him – an action, she noticed happily, caused him to take a step backward – as she voiced her thoughts.

"Let me just make sure I've got everything," she spoke eerily calmly as she advanced slowly, "You don't know how long we've been 'dating' for, you barely speak to _me_ at my own birthday afternoon tea, too preoccupied talking to my more famous relatives about other things to be bothered with little old me, you make point of noting how unattractive I usually look…"

Henry's face fell a little – a player such as himself would be well-trained in what happens when one insults a woman's dress sense. Poor move.

"_And_ you seem completely aware that I work at the Department of International Magical Cooperation – a division of the Ministry you are vocally degrading towards – and yet somehow, you are still bewildered as to why I didn't invite you along to an extremely prestigious function that I myself wasn't even invited to, so you could _network_?

Henry opened his mouth to retort before Rose cut him off, her voice rising.

"_And_ you viciously insult my work colleague and _friend_," until recently anyway, but he didn't have to know that, "Scorpius Malfoy based on the actions of his family members just like every other single-minded, prejudiced twat he has spent his _entire life _putting up with?"

Henry flicked his hair in a dismissive manner before looking down on her like she was some spoiled brat.

"Look Rose, you owe me the truth," he held up the paper against his chest, "I deserve as much."

That was it. Something in her brain – the part that was still throbbing an felt like it was about to burst out of her skull – snapped with those few words.

_I deserve as much_.

He deserved it. From her. The person whom he had been using for the past ten months, the person he had only got with to get closer to her very famous family - _h__e _deserved something from _her._ Damn right he did. He _deserved_ everything she was about to dish out. Her pupils constricted as she took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes.

Then she attacked.

"You want the truth Henry?! Huh? " she advanced on him and took a sick pleasure in noting how thoroughly terrified he looked as he backed away, "You wanna know the truth?!"

In the many years that followed in Rose Weasley's life, she would not be able to determine what, exactly, had made her say the following words. Perhaps it was because she was suffering the greatest migraine of the century and hence wasn't thinking straight? Or maybe it was because it was so early on a Saturday that her brain wasn't functioning? Maybe she was inspired by the conversation she had shared with Malfoy just moments earlier? Some might even argue it was because somewhere, deep inside her soul, she had hoped that what she was saying was, or would eventually become, the truth (although Rose would have said those people were certifiably crazy and possibly needed a good hexing to straighten themselves out). She really didn't know; no one did. But all that mattered was that she had set her face in a menacing frown as she stared Henry down and proclaimed maniacally (and ever so slightly proudly), "_That's_ the truth!"

She jabbed at the paper he held against his chest, right where the photo of her and Scorpius kissing was playing for what would have to be close to the hundred millionth time this morning.

"What you see right there – and right _here!_" she held her left hand adorning the ring so close to his face that he almost lost one of his precious brown eyes, "Is the truth! I am engaged to Scorpius Malfoy!"

She could have ended it there, Rose recognized as such, but she simply couldn't. She could not restrain herself, not when it was so fun watching the great Henry Horndry cower into a corner in fear.

"Ok Rose," he said, glancing behind him to see if he was close to any sharp objects he risked impaling himself on, "No need to shout."

"Oh but there _is_ Henry!" she smirked as she continued to advance, throwing her hands in the air for added effect, "I just want to shout it from the roof tops I am so very, _very_ excited! I am hopelessly in love with the MARVELLOUS Scorpius Malfoy! He is my earth, he is my sky, he is my heart and he is my soul!"

There was a brief moment that Rose considered the possibility that Scorpius was standing right outside her door and could hear everything she was saying. She dismissed it immediately – if he were outside her door he surely wouldn't be silent.

"I intend to bear at least six of his children – all of which will go on to play for a Quidditch team they won't be embarrassed by such as Puddlemere United, or the Pride of Portree, or even the Falmouth Falcons!" Rose watched as Henry fell over the arm of her couch and landed in a rather compromising position, half sprawled on the lounge, half sprawled on the floor as she continued her rant, "In fact, I wouldn't care if they played for the Thundelarra Thunderers, just as long as they don't play for the fucking CHUDLEY CANNONS!"

It had gotten to the point where her screeching was hurting her own ears, not to mention making her headache a thousand times worse. Rose consoled herself by convincing herself that the look of utter mortification and terror on Henry's face made it entirely worth it.

"We're going to live in a _fabulously_ over-priced house that will be _fabulously_ furnished in the country somewhere where we will raise our perfect family," it was scary just how much Rose was enjoying this, "Because that's what me and Scorpius are together – We. Are. PERFECT!"

She shouldn't say it. She shouldn't say it. She shouldn't say it. She shouldn't! She shouldn't!

_SAY IT!_

"And the sex is AMAZING!"

Henry's eyes almost popped out of his head, and he seemed to have recovered his ability to speak.

"What?!"

"The sex, Henry!" she reiterated, "All of the hours, and hours, and _hours_ of sex we have been having has been phenomenal! He makes me see stars - Every. Single. Time!"

Rose took a deep breath and watched as Henry picked himself up off the couch and stood before, apparently a growing the remnants of a spine very slowly again.

"Wha – no!" he seemed literally confused and utterly befuddled, "You couldn't have! You…you….Rose, how could you?!"

She scoffed at him and looked him up and down disapprovingly.

"Oh, and like you haven't?" she crossed her arms and jutted out her hip as she spoke condescendingly, "And tell me Henry, exactly how many other women have you slept with since we've been '_dating'_?"

He spluttered abhorrently for several seconds and blinked so quickly that she thought he may send himself into an epileptic fit.

"Well I…I never…"

"Kept count?" she finished for him. He squared his shoulders and scowled at her.

"Now look here, Rose!"

"No, _you_ look here!" she stood up taller as her confidence hit an all time high, "I am sick to death of your self righteous attitude when we both know that I was just a back-up lay for nights you weren't able to get into a party. You don't like me, you don't even _know _me, so stop pretending to be hurt and upset when the only thing that you're worried about is your precious career! This Scorpius business is none of your concern because it is part of my life, unlike _you_!"

Rose walked over to the door to her apartment and opened it wide to the empty passage way outside.

"You are no longer welcome in my apartment," she said in a quieter but in no way less threatening voice, "I suggest you leave right now before I hex off an appendage which I am sure you think is your greatest asset."

Henry stood frozen on the spot for several moments before his feet slowly led him to the door. He was shocked – honest to Merlin astounded – that he had just been verbally beaten up by a woman. These things just didn't happen. Not to Henry Horndry. He paused at the threshold of her apartment and turned to face Rose briefly. She tapped her foot and gave him an expression that suggested his reason for pausing better be a good one for his sake.

"Can I just ask you one question?" he asked in a voice so pitiful it almost made Rose feel sorry for him. Almost. She nodded once.

"You and Scorpius…" surely he wasn't going to use his one question on this, "You two didn't really….did you?"

Rose scowled at him, completely dumbfounded by his stupidity. How did this man get a girlfriend? Merlin, how did _she_ ever convince herself he was a good idea? She smiled darkly.

"Yes," she said simply, "And he's the best I've ever had."

And with that, Rose slammed the door in his face and assured herself that Henry Horndry would never again enter her apartment. She smiled to herself, then paused when she realized her head now felt like it was literally splitting in two. Stupid Henry for getting her so mad that she had to yell copiously. She trudged to her medicine cabinet for an adequate potion to quell this mother of a migraine, and tried to remember what she had been doing before the Chudley Boy Wonder had decided to ruin what was left of her morning once and for all.

Right, the Prophet. She had to get down there and convince them all to retract that bloody article and issue an apology. Whilst it might have been fun to watch Henry's reaction to the whole thing, she did _not_ fancy watching the response she would receive from Grandpa or Grandma Weasley. And lets not even think about her father's reaction to this whole scenario.

Rose downed the appropriate potion and winced through its bitter aftertaste. She looked down at her attire and decided to run upstairs and change into something perhaps a little more appropriate to be seen out in. After changing (and cursing the combination of congratulatory letters and owl shit that now covered her room) she headed downstairs to apparate to the Prophet offices, finally ready to sort this whole thing out.

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><p>With a crack audible for a good half mile, Rose Weasley landed spectacularly in <em>The Daily Prophet<em> lobby. Wearing cobalt robes she often reserved for meetings with international dignitaries, she allowed herself all of two seconds to catch her breath (and hold down last night's dinner) before continuing forward towards the clerk at the front desk. Robes billowing behind her, Rose stood before the young blonde girl who looked slightly scared. _And rightfully so_, Rose thought bitterly.

"Good morning," she smiled in a perfectly practiced if not slightly hesitant manner, "Welcome to The Daily Prophet. How may I -?"

"I want to speak to the editor," Rose said, stopping with her hands on her hips, one holding the offending paper, "_Now._"

The girl faltered at Rose's tone but retained her smile.

"I'm sorry but Mr. Cuffe does not –"

"Look, listen here," Rose hated herself for doing it, but she was going to pull out the 'name' card, "I am Rose _Weasley_, and I am asking you _nicely_ to tell your boss that I need to see him," she slammed the paper with her and Malfoy kissing playing facing up, "_Now._"

The girl hesitated and stuttered briefly – clearly torn as to what to do.

"Urrmmm…"

Rose was about to hate herself even more, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She was going to do it. She was going to have to play the 'Famous/Scary' relatives card.

"I only ask nicely once," she warned before adopting a painfully fake smile and sing-song voice, "If now's not good for Mr. Cuffe I can always come back later. With my parents and dear Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny…"

The girl smiled brightly and reached for a small piece of parchment. She scribbled a note on it before flicking her wand and sending it away in a very similar notion to how things worked at the Ministry. She looked back at Rose and gestured to the large marble staircase to the right of the desk.

"Mr. Cuffe will be waiting at the top of the stairs for you, Miss Weasley."

Rose snarled and marched towards the stairs – she was a woman on a mission and she was not wasting a single second in getting this story out of circulation.

Once she had marched up the insanely large staircase (really, they were wizards for Merlin's sake! She didn't care how impressive they looked – a huge marble staircase winding around the Daily Prophet's emblem was in _no way_ convenient), she was met by an obviously flustered and greying Barnabas Cuffe pacing at the top of the stairs. His face lit up when he saw her emerge.

"Ah, Miss. Weasley!" he exclaimed happily, approaching her in a manner that could only be described as strolling, "How are you this morning?"

"I'd be considerably better if I hadn't woken up to _THIS!" _she held up the thoroughly scrunched paper she held in her hand. He looked slightly baffled and went to say something (presumably unintelligible) when she cut him off – she did not have time for small talk.

"Your office _now_, Mr. Cuffe," she marched onto the floor filled with frantically working journalists, a few who shot her looks ranging from frightened to scandalous. She glared at the few who dared smile at her before calling over her shoulder to the bumbling man following her, "And I suggest you call whomever was responsible for the article to join us!"

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><p>When Lulu had apparated into Mr. Cuffe's office at 11:30 Saturday morning, she was surprised to say the least. After all, she'd not long left him after Mr. Malfoy had dropped by in his fabulous robes – she hadn't the slightest idea why he would have to see her again so soon. When she saw a wild red curly head sitting in the chair before Mr. Cuffe's desk, she could not believe her eyes.<p>

"Miss Weasley!" she exclaimed with an airy smile, which was met with a violent scowl. Rose watched as her eyes, which were hidden behind thick green-rimmed glasses, go wistful and dazed.

"Oh," she sighed romantically, "You even match when you're not together!"

Rose could not hide her bafflement.

"That is the exact same blue he was wearing!"

Rose raised an eyebrow and looked to Mr. Cuffe for clarification. The man cleverly ignored his journalist's comments and instead ushered her to the chair beside Rose.

"Lulu," he smiled widely in a manner just as practiced as the clerk at the front desk, "Please join us."

Lulu Snorklebort was a woman who seemed to scuttle rather than walk. She tugged at her sleeves absently before somewhat falling into the chair that seemed to swamp her tiny frame. She looked up at Mr. Cuffe, then to Rose, then back to Mr. Cuffe. Rose absently wondered if she was some sort of distant relation to Aunt Luna.

"Lulu," Mr. Cuffe spoke in a manner he would if he were speaking to a three year old, "Miss. Weasley would like to discuss your latest article."

"Oh!" she exclaimed as if she had just won a prize, before looking slightly confused, "Wait, didn't we sort this out with Mr. Malfoy this morning?"

That made Rose sit up and listen.

"What?" she looked to Mr. Cuffe for clarification, "Scorpius was in this morning?"

"Yes," he checked his pocket watch, "In fact you would have missed him by less than thirty minutes."

Scorpius had come in and sorted things out? After the whole debarkle this morning he actually _did what she asked_?

She had a none-too-discrete look out the window to see if any pigs had taken to the skies.

No flying pigs. But an apocalypse wasn't out of the question. Just in case the apocalypse was apparent, Rose wanted to get that retraction finalized – she'd be damned if the world went up in flames thinking she was engaged to Scorpius Malfoy.

"So he sorted everything out?" Rose asked skeptically.

"Yes," Mr. Cuffe reiterated, "He even brought his associate, Mr. Arden."

"Mr. Arden?" it wasn't a name she'd ever heard him mention.

"The lion," Lulu interjected as if sharing some deep dark secret.

"The gentleman from the Wizengamot," Cuffe clarified. The _Wizengamot?_ He really was serious about this whole thing if he got in an associate from the Wizengamot involved. Maybe he wasn't that bad after all. In fact she'd probably have to thank him later. But she wasn't apologizing; after all, this was all his fault to begin with.

"Really?" Rose asked, excitement and relief seeping into her tone.

"Yes," Lulu nodded her head enthusiastically, almost dislodging her glasses, "Made us both sign all sorts of important documents."

Documents? Retraction statements! Official retraction statements! Oh she could just kiss him!

_No._ No she couldn't – that's what had created this whole _situation_. So no kissing. Not that she really wanted to anyway…

"So it's all sorted?" she asked with a smile, to which both of them nodded. Rose couldn't suppress the squeal that escaped her lips as she jumped to her feet.

"Oh thank Merlin!" she, very regrettably, did a brief happy dance and let her face light up in a smile. She released a chuckle and turned to face both of the suitably surprised people before her.

"So," she recovered some semblance of sanity as she composed herself, "When can I expect to see the retraction?"

The room fell silent.

Lulu looked at Mr. Cuffe with a dazed expression. Mr. Cuffe looked at Rose with a curiously raised eyebrow. And Rose's face slowly fell from a smile back into her Hermione-Weasley-inspired frown.

"That _is_ what Scorpius discussed with you this morning, was it not?" she looked to Mr. Cuffe and held his worried gaze, "Issuing a retraction?"

Cuffe gaped silently for a few moments, apparently completely perplexed by the whole situation. It was Lulu who finally spoke up in a somewhat floaty tone.

"No," she shook her head daintily, "In fact it was quite the opposite."

"_What?_" Rose suddenly understood her mother's ability to speak even when gritting her teeth so hard it physically hurt. Apparently it was hereditary.

"This morning," she began to twirl an untamed lock of frizzy blonde hair around her twig of a finger, "Mr. Malfoy came in wearing a stunning sapphire travelling cloak over a well-tailored beige and white ensemble," she really did speak just like she wrote her articles, "to discuss an _anti_-retraction form."

"_ANTI-RETRACTION?!"_

"Yes," Lulu continued as if Rose had not just bellowed loud enough for the entire floor to hear, "The first of its kind apparently. It clearly outlines that The Daily Prophet, under no circumstances, is allowed to claim the article written in this morning's paper relating to Mr. Malfoy's engagement – _my _article – is false. Made us both sign the contracts, he did. Lovely fellow."

Rose was literally stunned into silence. Her brain had ceased to function. _Anti-retraction? Wizengamot? _What is the name of all that is magical was Scorpius Malfoy up to?! And _why_ was he so hell-bent on making her life a living misery?

"But he did make sure we corrected the mistake about the stones in your ring," Lulu offered apologetically, "So sorry about that – I just assumed the black stones were onyx. It does look ever so lovely on your hand by the way."

And just like that, Rose was brought back to life.

"HOW IS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE?!" she screamed, pacing angrily around the office, "HOW IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS HE ABLE TO FORBID A RETRACTION ON AN ARTICLE ABOUT _ME_?!"

"Well it was about the both of you…" Lulu murmured, only to face the glare of Rose full on. Just before she unleashed a century's worth of cursing on the unsuspecting waif of a girl, Cuffe intervened.

"His associate had some sort of ancient documents," he offered frantically, "Hundreds of years old they were. Never seen them before in my life, but apparently it allows this anti-retraction whatnot."

Rose felt herself begin to hyperventilate. This was it – her life was falling apart all because of one stupid birthday present and one stupid kiss. Oh if he were here right now there was no telling what she would do to him. Even if it was a hex-free zone she would rip him limb from limb with her bare hands. They could send her to Azkaban for all she cared – the prick deserved it.

Cuffe picked up a note from off his desk and handed it out to her in the same manner a zookeeper may offer a lion some meat from his bare hand.

"He um…left this…for you," Rose looked at the offered slip of parchment, "Seemed to know you'd be coming to visit."

Rose snatched the piece of paper from the man with a snarl and ripped it open. She identified the perfect scribe immediately and felt her blood begin to boil as she read.

**_Dearest Rosie,_**

Why did he insist on calling her by that damn nick-name that he _knew_ she didn't like it? She mentally slapped herself, – why did Scorpius Malfoy do _anything_? To annoy her and make her life more difficult. Even when he only wrote it rather than spoke it the name grated on her nerves. He really was doing everything within his power to piss her off. Twat.

**_I knew you'd come running down here as soon as you left my apartment this morning, so I took the liberty of organizing this prior to you waking. _**

The way he wrote it made it sound like she had spent the night with him – _she hadn't! _At least not last night…

**_I know you're only trying to shield me from your family and all those who would disapprove of our union, but I can't let you live this lie just to protect me anymore. It's time the world learnt of our love for one another – it's too pure and strong to go secreted any longer. I love you Rosie, and I want the world to know it. Come what sorrow can, it cannot countervail the exchange of joy that one short minute gives me in your sight._**

That last line sounded decisively _un_-Malfoyish. A wordsmith he may be, but this – _this_ – was something else entirely.

**_What we have is unbreakable; it cannot be dwindled by the opinions of those around us or conquered by prejudice. Those who love us will accept our union – they must. This fight that befalls us will not deter me – I go to battle willingly. For is this not the very ecstasy of love? It's violent property fordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings. For my actions are those of a desperate man Rose; a desperate man who wants to be free to love you with all his heart. This heart is all I have, my love; and in this heart, courage to make thy love known._**

Rose stared at the words before her in complete astonishment. She couldn't believe it. She could _not_ believe it. He had pulled a Shakespeare on her – he had pulled a _bloody Shakespeare _on her! _"For is this not the very ecstasy of love?"_ _"Come what sorrow can?"_ He had used all that damn muggle literature he had hidden all through his apartment to make out as if they were two star-crossed lovers fighting against the powers at large to be together. He had stolen the work of William Shakespeare – possibly the best manipulator of language known to man (wizard and muggle alike) to help enhance this outrageous façade he had going?! This was unbelievable. She was honestly too dumbfounded to even be angry. Yet. She read on.

**_Please forgive me for going behind your back like this my love, but I knew you would protest too much. I cannot bear to see you pained by the lies you tell your family – I had to come forward. I did this for you._**

And with those five words, the anger set in.

Bullshit he did this for her! What a dick. What an arse. What a…a…Merlin she didn't have the adjective to aptly describe the pure, unadulterated, burning hatred she felt for Scorpius Malfoy at this very second. If he were here right now she may not be able to stop herself from performing an unforgivable. What a twat. He was going out of his way to make her life a living hell. He was going to pay for this. Oh Merlin he was going to pay.

She continued to read his blatantly fabricated declaration of love and trickery.

_**I will fight for us Rosie. If it takes the last breath from my body I promise you, with all my heart, that I will not rest until the world sees us for what we are – two people in love and dedicated to a long and happy life together. I will fight for us. I will fight for you.**_

How dare he sound so dramatically poignant! She knew he had a way with words – it came in handy in their profession – but Rose was currently cursing his ability to make words just seem…_pretty_. He was a self-indulgent pig and if he thought he was convincing anyone, least of all _her_, with this transparently over-staged proclamation of dedication he was sadly mistaken. Rose felt her right eye begin to twitch as she continued.

**_As you already know I'm off to Italy for a few days on the Huxberry case, but I intend to return by Wednesday. I wish I could be beside you in this time of need for I feel as if I am abandoning you when we need each other most. _**

Damn straight he was abandoning her! He got to piss off to Italy for four days while she stayed back here and tried to keep her family – not to mention the _entire wizarding community at large_ – from freaking out over her fake engagement! If that wasn't abandonment she didn't know what was. The twitch in her right eye slowly spread to her left as she had to try very hard to read the remainder of this abomination of literary prose.

**_Where thou art, there is the world itself, and where thou art not, desolation. Henceforth, these next four days that shall pass slower than an eternity. I am to be banished to a desolate hell, surviving only on the knowledge that I will once again look into your glorious eyes and be able to call you my own._**

Cue the teeth grating.

**_Eternally yours, _**

**_Scorpius._**

It was official – Scorpius was a snake. A cold-blooded, stone-hearted, slithering, slimy snake. He wasn't just Slytherin to the soul – he was the honest to Merlin reincarnation of the bastard! (Ok, so Salazar Slytherin was a founding father of Hogwarts and apparent friend of Godric Gryffindor, so he obviously had to have _some_ good traits. Maybe it was a bit harsh linking him and Scorpius together – Salazar was clearly a more amiable and upstanding member of society than Scorpius). The waterfall of insults and hexes cascading through her mind and blurring her still-twitch-distorted vision was so over powering Rose barely heard Lulu speak.

"I everything alright, Miss. Weasley?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh yes! Yes everything is just splendid!" she snapped sarcastically. Her brain tended to do that when tied and angry, "My _fiancée _has decided to take a well planned trip to Italy so I'm left with this backlash your damn article has created all on my own! And, just to top everything off, has gone out of his way to make it impossible for me to refute the story. So yeah, everything's just swell _thanks. Very. MUCH!" _

Mr. Cuffe went to speak but was hastily cut off by Rose who was slowly growing redder by the second.

"If I stay here much longer I fear at least one of you will be missing a body part, so if you will excuse me," she threw the piece of paper down on the ground angrily before marching towards the door, "I'll show myself out!"

She slammed the door to Mr. Cuffe's office shut with more force than was strictly necessary before stomping down the entirely unnecessary and damn ridiculous staircase leading to the lobby. Once she reached the apparation point, Rose sent herself home to find something flammable she wouldn't miss, make herself the very large hot chocolate she didn't get to enjoy yesterday, and read up on any and all hexes she knew that could cause enough of an injury that Malfoy would be persuaded to remove that damn anti-retraction thing. She had four days to prepare.

And then, as soon as she saw him, Scorpius Malfoy was going to pay.

* * *

><p>As soon as Rose Weasley had vacated the premises, Lulu bent to retrieve the crumpled letter the woman's beloved had left for her. She read it, eyes welling up with tears and heart swelling with every word. Mr. Cuffe looked at her curiously.<p>

"What's that?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. Lulu looked over her glasses.

"A love letter from Mr. Malfoy explaining his actions," she sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve ungracefully, "It's beautiful."

There was a twinkle growing in Mr. Cuffe's eye as he came to read it over her shoulder. Upon processing the first few lines, a smile spread across his face. A dramatic love letter from Scorpius Malfoy to Rose Weasley? Why, opportunities like this did not simply happen by coincidence. No, no - this was the work of Merlin himself, sending a message to Mr. Cuffe. This needed to be printed.

Lulu let out a sigh as she placed her hand over her heart.

"Such a shame we can't share such beauty with the world," she sighed longingly as she continued to gaze at the flutter-inducing note. Cuffe's eyes brightened and his smile darkened.

"Does it say anywhere "_Off the record_"?" he asked quietly. Lulu's eye lit up in a way that resembled her boss scarily.

"No," she turned to face him with a giddy smile, "No it doesn't."

"Well then," Cuffe walked back behind his desk to retrieve his pipe, "I think it is our _duty_ as good journalists to inform everyone of just how beautiful this young love is."

Lulu watched him as he sat behind his desk in a self-fullfilling manner.

"I might be able to make tonight's issue," she offered excitedly.

"That's my girl."

And with that, Lulu Snorklebort scuttled back to her office elated once more at the prospect of producing another great work of journalistic art. She decided she'd keep the black _and_ the white frame, after all, it appeared she'd have _two_ front page stories to hang above her desk now.

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><p><em>Done! Hope it was kinda worth the wait. Next one will be a while away yet. And by a while i mean A WHILE. I will do my best though - promise!<em>

_Once again, reviews make a happy Grae. And a happy Grae is more inspired to write and upload...if you get my drift :)_

_A lovely week to you all :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_*Waves white flag*__ I hang my head in shame and beg for mercy oh faithful readers (if you're still out there) for this atrociously late update. I am truly sorry for how long this has taken – as one very kind reviewer pointed out it has been 'A WHILE'. Indeed it has. In fact it has been a great deal longer than 'a while' even by my standards. So I apologise for the lateness._

_Unfortunately, that is not where the apologies end. I warn you all now – this chapter is 'a filler'. It's not very interesting and is quite poorly written. Despite its size I feel it's severely lacking in quantity and everything is given less attention than it deserves. Buuuuut I'm lazy and wanna get onto the good stuff (like Rose and Scorpius sparring) so I tend to kinda skip over the rest of this stuff. Also I reiterate – this story has been written as a comedy-ish thing. Nothing in it is supposed to seem too serious or dark and twisty. I want you to know now, there is someone hospitalized in this chapter – NOTHING TO FEAR! NO ONE WILL DIE OR BE SERIOUSLY MAIMED! Ok? Everyone calm? Good._

_Also, this is one of the few times I have attempted to write original JKR characters in any greet detail, not just Next Gen peeps. Therefore, not everyone is likely to like how I wrote them. For that I also apologise and hope you can enjoy regardless._

_Now a thank-you! Massive shout out to Mlle-Lay who was nice enough to tell me the proper French for what I wrote in Chapter 3. I thank-you sincerely and will change Chapter 3 very shortly. Like next 24 hours. Promise. __ I also apologise to any and all French persons that may have been offended at my abuse of their very lovely language – you have Mlle-Lay to thank for the end of such assault _

_I hope you all can still enjoy this chapter even though it's all very blah. I promise the next upload will not only be more exciting but also uploaded much sooner. _

_Please continue to review – they brighten my day _

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters. __Also, the 'wrap a lie up in the truth' was inspired by the fabulously fabulous BBC series Sherlock. Seriously, everyone needs to get on that and be Cumberbatched! (you will understand when you watch it)_

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><p>Rose was in St Mungos.<p>

Unfortunately it was not because she was being treated for outrageous hallucinations wherein she imagined Scorpius Malfoy had somehow managed to con her into a fake engagement; that little fact remained so in her particular fragment of reality (oh joy, oh joy). In fact she hadn't been admitted at all. Currently she was sitting in the St Mungos waiting room at 10:18 am on Tuesday morning with a considerably frantic Hermione Weasley pacing before her. She guessed she should have expected something such as this to happen – her week had been full of odd and distressing moments. Most of them, predictably, were directly linked to the ring that still sat on her finger.

The past few days had been a tumultuous rollercoaster of emotion and embarrassment. She had spent most of Saturday burning things in her apartment she deemed both superfluous and flammable. Rose no longer had a year's worth of _Witch Weekly_ magazines, which had long been her guilty pleasure and feel-good read (she knew the stories were bogus but she had to admit, she got a kick out of seeing who they all thought dear cousin James was sleeping with this week – they were always wrong as they appeared to be under the impression he limited himself to _one_ per week. She was sure he would be insulted at the implication). Next to go were a number of tea towels – why Grandma Granger continued to buy them for her she hadn't the foggiest. She was a witch for Merlin's sake, why would she ever require an apparatus that was used to dry dishes _by hand_? They were followed by some old robes she'd been meaning to get rid of for a long while, and then a collection of potions in her bathroom that she was never going to use but had been given as presents over the years (such as a 'fuzz-be-gone' potion Henry, the prat, had the audacity to give her, suggesting she use it to tame her hair so it wouldn't abstract from his face when they got photos together – yeah, the whole _two times_ it had happened. She had never even opened the bottle, just to spite him). Rose had taken great pleasure in seeing several of those go up in flames – potions tended to have the biggest 'bang'. She also could no longer boast that she had retained every single parchment she had ever submitted in her Hogwarts career. Initially she saved the ones that she got full marks on (of which there was an ample amount may she just add) from incineration, but after reading the evening copy of The Daily Prophet which had printed a picture of Scorpius' letter and then proceeded to write it out word for word, Rose had felt the need to burn the entire lot.

Rose had then marched down to their head office – _again_ – but the receptionist, who mentioned that Cuffe was expecting her, let right through this time. So prepared for her appearance was he, that he had his own legal representative present upon her arrival. The rather unattractively snobby man explained that seeing as Mr. Scorpius Malfoy entrusted the letter into the care of The Daily Prophet and Miss. Weasley had neglected to claim ownership (as she had screwed it up and left it on the floor of Cuffe's office) they were well within their rights to print it. Rose had wanted to hex both Cuffe and the legal rep into oblivion, but with her current status in the public sphere, it would no doubt end up on the front page of tomorrow's paper and that would just make more mess. She had taken out her frustrations by making a list of all the curses she knew that would inflict the most amount of pain, suffering, annoyance, embarrassment and frustration on Malfoy when he eventually returned. It made her feel mildly better.

The owl she had received that evening from her mother had not. It had been simple and to the point –

_Rose,_

_It doesn't appear things have been settled. I think you should join us for supper._

_Mum _

The fact that she left off the 'xoxo' that usually accompanied her letters gave Rose a pretty clear indication that things were not well at the Weasley household. Or at least wouldn't be by the time supper came around. She also knew that '_supper'_ really meant '_debrief and plan next attack'_. Furthermore, it probably meant that she had to finally come clean to her dad. Her only hope was that he was still partially immobile from the hangover he was sure to be sporting and hence wouldn't really listen to her all that much or fully process what she was telling him. She sincerely hoped that by the time he did finally come back to his senses 100% and cotton on to what she was saying, she would have had time to actually sort this thing out by way of threatening (and possibly castrating) Malfoy.

Rose had heeded her mother's warning and joined them for supper (although it was really dinner for Rose because she had not felt able to eat before coming over). Her mum was slightly less stand-offish than she had been that morning, apparently recognizing from the evening's issue of The Prophet that the real people to blame here were the press, not Rose (although she did manage to mention twice that 'had she not kissed the Malfoy boy this wouldn't have happened' but it was with notably less malice than earlier in the day). She had greeted Rose in the kitchen with a hug – which was sorely needed by this point in time – and a cup of tea – also sorely needed. She had explained that Rose's father was in the lounge room pretending to watch TV (still a novelty even though they'd had one ever since Rose could remember) with his eyes closed and that she had encouraged him to take more of her newly established 'Miracle Hangover Cure'. Rose listened as her mother explained the potion was very similar to a Calming Draught mixed with a Headache Potion, with an ample amount of Lavender thrown in for good measure along with some other 'bits and bobs'. This was a good thing – it meant that her father would be a little out of it and hence easier to deal with. Or at least incapable of apparating to Italy to kill Malfoy. Which was good in a way because it meant her father would not be sent to Azkaban, but bad in the way that Malfoy – current bane of her existence – was alive. Pity.

Telling her father was not the quiet, discreet meeting she had hoped for however, as her mother had taken it upon herself to invite Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny over for – and this was a direct quote – '_reinforcements'_. Really, anyone would think they were fighting a war. It was less than comforting. This was made even more awkward with the addition of Albus and Lily who just so happened to drop by to see their favorite aunt and uncle and no, they had no idea their parents would be here, and yes were completely clueless to the fact that Rose was planning on telling Uncle Ron about Malfoy, and my, my, my aunt Hermione was looking particularly dashing this evening, and yes, the fact that Albus had decided to bring along his camera was _completely_ coincidental. Rose wanted to hex them both.

Add her brother Hugo into the mix – who actually came bearing confectionary to enjoy the show, _cough_, I mean, contribute to supper – and Rose was suddenly in the middle of some great dramedy show that was masquerading as a minor family gathering. She felt like vomiting.

With everyone in the lounge room sitting around her father, who was little more than a gargling pile of limbs lost in the comforting embrace of his favorite armchair, Rose knew it was time to tell him. She knew this because her mother was nudging her forward into the center of the haphazard circle of her relatives. Lily was putting her acting skill to work and looking thoroughly concerned though the sparkle in her eye gave her away, Albus trying (and failing horribly) to inconspicuously take photos of Ron and Rose, Hugo unabashedly chewed on a licorice wand with his face split in two by his enormous grin, while Harry and Ginny had their hands placed gently though purposefully on their wands. Rose swallowed heavily and made one last desperate bid to any and all higher powers to either let her go back in time and not accept the ring, or to strike her dead right here on the carpet so she wouldn't have to tell her father.

Rose, regrettably, took another entirely too easy breath and remained in the present.

That's it. She'd be an atheist forever.

"Ron," her mother said from behind her, as she not so subtly nudged her forward again, "Your daughter has something she'd like to tell you."

"Rowtheee?" he questioned with dazed eyes and a lazy smile, "Whaths she got ta thsay?"

Rose made a mental note to never allow her mother to mix her this new Miracle Hangover Cure if she needed to do anything in the 48 hours following consumption – her dad was one step above being comatose. This was a good thing though; there was no way he could murder her or Malfoy in his current state. And if his speech was this slurred when he tried to yell at her maybe she wouldn't understand and then it wouldn't be as bad.

_Silver linings Rose, just keep looking for the silver linings_.

"Well the thing is dad," just like ripping off a Band-Aid, better to get it over and done with quickly – _you can do this_, "There's been a bit of a misunderstanding involving myself and…um…Scorpius Malfoy."

Her dad's brow furrowed but he stayed silent and hazy, his head bobbing from side to side slowly in a strangely hypnotic sort of a way.

"See he gave me a ring for my birthday, just as a friend," she tried to ignore the snort that came from Albus somewhere behind her and to the left, "And um…now…ah, everyone – including the people at The Daily Prophet – seem to be under the _entirely false_ idea that we are…well….that um…"

She couldn't say it. She could _not_ tell her father. Her inner voice – the one that she had made a conscious effort to shut down since this whole Malfoy incident developed because it had been saying inappropriate things about his eyes and his arms and just his anatomy in general – made a snide remark about her Gryffindor courage going AWOL. She warned it that if it had a face, she would punch it, before sending it back to its dark little dungeon in the recesses of her mind.

"They…" she begun again and swallowed before finally saying the words, "_Theythinkwe'reengaged!"_

"_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"_

With a dulled 'bang' and '_phzzt_', Rose watched as her father turned suddenly rigid, his eyes wide and shocked as he stared at a patch of wall above and behind her head somewhere. She spun on her heel to see what, exactly, had just happened, her eyes landing on the only drawn wand in the room. Her Aunt Ginny's face held an entirely devilish smile as she shrugged and tucked her wand back in her pocket.

"Whoops," she said entirely without conviction, "Got a bit ahead of myself."

Albus took one last photo before running from the lounge room and into the kitchen. The minute the kitchen door was heard slamming shut, he began to howl with laughter that echoed down into the Lounge Room. Lily and Hugo had to excuse themselves momentarily to join Albus in a chorus of cackles. Rose would have been tempted to laugh too had she not seen the look her mother shot the cackling door of the kitchen. Hermione looked to Ginny before nodding to her husband's frozen body. Ginny sighed dramatically and gave Rose a passing shrug – _I did what I could_ – before releasing her brother. With his body able to move again, Ron slumped a little further into his chair before twitching his head to the side and looking at his daughter strangely.

"En-en-_engaged!_" he spluttered as he tried to regain clarity of mind, "To a _Malfoy?!_"

Apparently the only thing strong enough to reverse the effects of her mother's Hangover Cure was her father's hatred for the Malfoy family. How convenient.

"I'm not!" Rose defended quickly, putting up her arms in mock surrender, "That's just what The Prophet is telling people."

"But wha…" her dad seemed to fade in and out of consciousness for a moment, "Why would they think that?'

_Because I snogged him at the Halloween Party I made you let me come along to and they managed to catch it on camera._

In a tone that could better be described as a squeak rather than speech, Rose replied, "Haven't the foggiest."

That little annoying voice came trotting to the forefront of Rose's mind yet again.

_You, Rose Weasley, are a liar_

_Shut up conscious – you've had a solid 24 years of putting in your opinion, its high time you kept them to yourself for a while!_

_Yes but in the past 24 years you haven't had something like this happen have you?_

_Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!_

Rose turned back to her family to find them all staring at her strangely. Thankfully her inner monologue had remained _inner_, but that did mean she had been noticeably silent and frowning into space for no apparent reason. And she may have stomped her foot too.

Right, now they all thought she was mad as well as completely naïve and irresponsible. Fabulous.

"Well," her still doped up father made a shaky attempt to stand and look authoritative, "We'll jusht shettt tah record shtraight."

An attempt to stomp his foot sent him pummeling backwards into his chair once more with much flailing of his arms and more than one muttered curse word.

Ginny and Harry barely managed to suppress their sniggers (Rose was beginning to see were Albus and Lily got their silliness from). Her mother even seemed to have to thwart a smile from breaking out across her face as she stepped forward to assist her husband.

"Now Ron, I really don't think you are in any state to be doing such things,' she helped him into a mildly more comfortable position but couldn't do a lot to move his dead-weight body. At least this way his windpipe wouldn't be constricted, that was something.

"I am Ronaaald Weashlah," her father bellowed, beating his fist against his chest in a way that was reminiscent of how Rose imagined cavemen displayed their displeasure, "I will _not_ have thaa worlt think my…_my _daughtah ish married to a Malfoy!"

"Engaged," Rose said quietly, almost afraid to stop her father mid-tirade but feeling the need to correct him before he got _too_ carried away, "Only engaged."

She thought she may have heard her mother snort under her breath but dismissed it almost instantly – Hermione Weasley was not a woman who snorted.

"No," her father said defiantly with a stomp of his foot that shook the lamp on the small end table next to his chair, "No, no, no! My daughter, my dearetht Rowthie, would never be…be…a _Malfoy_!"

"Oh Ron, don't be so melodramatic," Ginny chimed in with a flick of her hair that was so reminiscent of Lily, Rose pondered whether it was a genetically passed on trait, "Rose hasn't done anything – this is all The Prophet's fault."

Rose spied her mother's nostrils flaring beside her and could practically feel her enthusiasm to correct Ginny's fabrication (from stories Uncle Harry had told, she had been much the same in school, always wanting to answer every question. Rose supposed that had been genetically passed to her much like Lily and Ginny's hair flick. Typical – Rose got an eagerness to answer questions and her cousin got beautiful hair. It hardly seemed fair).

"Exactly," Harry piped up after getting a control on his giggles because yes, believe it or not, the Boy Who Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World and all time hero Mr. Harry Potter giggled _like a school girl_, "This is all just an elaborate misunderstanding – nothing to get up in arms about."

Ron seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness again as he nodded his head (or at least attempted to control the wobbling to a degree that it would _appear_ to be a nod).

"Right," he slurred, the same lazy smile spreading up his face once more, "Yesth…justht a…a misth…"

"Yes Ron," Hermione interrupted as she patted his shoulder, "Rose is going to work all this out – _isn't she_?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Rose who just smiled and nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Yep!" Rose wasn't sure whether she was assuring herself or her mother, "I've got it all under control." _More or less._

There was a general, silent consensus that Ron knew all that he needed to – after all, they just needed to keep him oblivious to this whole 'anti-retraction' thing, as well as the whole 'kiss' thing, until Wednesday when Scorpius returned and Rose could take great pleasure in forcing him to do what she requested. After Wednesday all would be set back in order and they could forget any of this had happened.

After Hermione had safely levitated her husband to his bed, the conscious adults and Rose reconvened in the kitchen with Lily, Albus and Hugo who had finally gotten themselves under control. They grinned sheepishly at Harry and Ginny who did their best to give them stern faces, then at Hermione who looked more tired than annoyed. Rose sat at the kitchen bench and sighed loudly.

"Well," Harry clapped his hands together jovially, "That went well!"

"I wouldn't say well," Rose muttered, eyeing the ring where it sat concealed on her finger.

"Well it could have been worse at least," Harry reaffirmed with a wide smile, "That's something."

Hermione sat across from Rose and rubbed her temple as she tried to think.

"Anyway!" Ginny called as she put on the kettle and got cups of tea ready, "It will all be over by Wednesday – nothing to worry about."

"Yes but we still have the issue of Monday and Tuesday," Hermione murmured, eyes closed in deep concentration (really, she was treating this like some great arthimancy problem; Rose suspected her mother quite missed the thrill of a real challenge every now and then), "You know how much Ron loves to gossip – there is no way known he is going to go through two days of work without it coming up in conversation somewhere."

"I'll keep it all under control," Harry assured her with a pat on the shoulder, "I'll send out an indiscrete memo not to mention it."

"Hmmmm…" Hermione sighed and continued to rub her temples – apparently that answer was not sufficient, "I'll think of something."

Rose would later learn that her father had unfortunately managed to somehow spill some of the extremely potent Hangover Cure (which, for reasons unknown was _not_ in the potions room, but rather hiding in a jug that very closely resembled the one that stored the milk) into his tea come Monday morning. Immediately after finishing his tea, Ron was barely able to move from his chair he was so relaxed, forcing Hermione to inform Harry her husband would not be in for work. Harry didn't mind.

The rest of the evening was spent discussing anything _but_ Rose's non-engagement, although Albus did try his best to get both Rose and Aunt Hermione riled up at different points throughout the night. Sunday had been much more laid back, with Rose taking solace in her very small study where she researched hexes and jinxes and all number of painful ways to get back at Scorpius (she still wasn't up to sifting through the piles of letters she had received; she would do that sometime after Wednesday when she could see the funny side rather than just the 'pain in my ass' side). It was slightly disturbing how much she had smiled as she wrote out 32 pages of notes.

That smile vanished, however, with the rise of the Monday morning sun.

When she had arrived at the office on Monday Rose found her desk covered in various 'congratulations' gifts ranging from the very expensive and elaborate (such as a golden phoenix clock which let out a loud squawk every hour, on the hour, and systematically burst into flames at noon each day) to the not so expensive (a candy bride and groom that danced in a manner Rose could only describe as vulgar) to the just plain distasteful (someone had sent her a matching set of 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.' G-strings along with a bejeweled riding crop. They hadn't attached a note, but Rose immediately thought of several family members that could have been responsible). If Rose had a sickle for every time she had uttered the phrase 'Well thank-you, but we're not actually engaged' (to which the typical response was, '_Oh right! Don't want the senior Malfoys to find out, righto' _quickly followed by a wink or a nudge), she would be a very wealthy woman.

The display of gifts and frustration at trying to get it through peoples' thick skulls that they _weren't engaged_ was nothing compared to the odd meeting she had had later that day.

The meeting was with a group of woman Rose liked to call The Puppeteers. They were all married to high-ranking officials in Magical Ministries in the European and Mediterranean sectors, and were quite well known for being able to sway their husbands' opinions and virtually control them in every sense. They were older than Rose – all were her mother's vintage, being forty or older – and seemed to have some kind of (quite disturbing really) fascination with Scorpius Malfoy. They would comment on his beautiful hair/cheekbones/eyes/jawline/any-anatomical-feature, and giggle like schoolgirls when he kissed their hands in greeting. Rose had actually almost gagged when she witnessed the display firsthand. Their love for him was so potent, that they never interacted with Rose and much preferred to meet with him privately to discuss international relations issues concerning their husbands (which they, therefore, had a large amount of pull over). Scorpius was just the kind of man to deal with them too – charming and flirty with anything that had female reproductive organs and a pulse, manipulative to the extent of being able to get damn near anything he wanted, whilst also being highly skilled in proper etiquette and therefore being the perfect candidate to make an appearance at pompous events such as 'Brunch on the French Riviera' where they served food the size of Rose's finger and charged half her monthly income, Scorpius could control them just as well as they controlled their husbands. Rose had been more than happy to hand them over to him exclusively ever since their first encounter where they had not only insulted her dress sense, but also asked if her hair was actually a separate living organism to the rest of her being. She had thought it was quite an achievement not to hex any of them right that very second (and now that she thought of it, the reassuring hand squeeze Scorpius gave her may have helped a tiny bit too. But not much). All in all, The Puppeteers didn't like Rose, and Rose most certainly wasn't fond of them.

It was odd, therefore, when Rose was informed that they had organized with her superiors to discuss some current issues _over lunch._ Rose was actually being forced to sit down and consume food in front of the stick-insect living dolls that hated her.

Monday was quickly shaping up to be worse than Saturday.

By the time lunch came around, Rose had worked herself into a tizzy, ready to battle any and all of them. She was sure they would want to rip out her throat over her engagement to their toy boy, or bully her into getting exactly what they wanted, just to prove that Scorpius was better at her job than she was so she was therefore inferior and therefore shouldn't be marrying him and therefore they would somehow sabotage and cancel their wedding. Even though she wasn't marrying him. But they didn't know that. And by not knowing that, they had probably devised the above plan to ensure the wedding – that wasn't happening – wouldn't happen.

Rose momentarily wondering if she actually was insane. It seemed more and more likely every day.

When she had arrived at the predictably expensive restaurant The Puppeteers had picked out feeling very much underdressed and that she just may start hexing at random to calm herself down, Puppeteer number one, Mrs. Aphrodite Giannakos – the wife of the Greek Minister for Magic – approached her outside.

"Rose," Mrs. Giannakos called, rushing towards her with what appeared to be a genuine smile spreading across her faultless features and her arms outstretched, "Rose, darling, how are you?"

Every time Rose saw Mrs. Giannakos, she was momentarily stunned by just how attractive she was. With her long flowing brown hair that was always swept up in some impossible fashion, and her clothes that were very rarely a colour darker than light beige, not to mention her enviable olive skin, Aphrodite Giannakos was the epitome of a Grecian beauty. She kissed Rose on each cheek and embraced her daintily, leaving Rose bewildered and frankly a little scared.

"Ms..Mrs. Giannakos," Rose stuttered embarrassingly and could feel her face flaming. Mrs. Giannakos simply smiled brightly at her as she shook her head softly.

"Please, darling, call me Aphrodite."

Well that didn't sound appropriate at all. No, Rose would not be calling her that.

"Pardon me for being rude," Rose tried her best to remember all those etiquette lessons her mother tried to instill in her when she was younger, "But I'm a little unsure about why I'm here."

Mrs. Giannakos laughed in a polite manner that she had obviously crafted to appear almost genuine.

"Oh how quaint of you."

Without any further elaboration, she linked her arm under Rose's and began to walk towards the doors of the restaurant in much the same manner as a model strode down the catwalk, with Rose dawdling like a shag on a rock behind her. The doorman opened the door immediately and bowed politely to Ms. Giannakos who nodded swiftly before walking into the establishment like she owned it.

"Rosie! Aphrodite! Over here!"

The pair's attention was drawn to a large round table on the far right side of the restaurant. At what was clearly the best table in the house – it overlooked a picturesque street that may or may not be a magically created image – sat the remaining three Puppeteers. The woman whom had called out to them was Nephthys Bashandi, wife of the Egyptian Minister. She had jet black hair that was straight as an arrow and barely hung past her ears, prominent eyebrows visible under her harsh blunt fringe, and a disposition that made Rose understand why she had been named after the Egyptian goddess of the death process.

To her right sat Freya Bloomfeld, wife of the Minister for the whole of Western Europe. She stood out against Nephthys, being almost her polar opposite in every way – she had long flowing hair that was a slightly more yellow shade than Scorpius', bright blue eyes that Rose suspected could see through her, and porcelain skin that barely had a wrinkle despite her age. Her face, like always, was blanketed in a cool indifference, her pink lips barely quirking in recognition of the presence of Rose and Aphrodite.

Last, sitting to the left of Nephthys, was Brigantia Adamovich, wife to the Minister for the North Eastern European sector. She, like the others, was a stunningly beautiful woman, but her beauty was of a more unconventional nature. Her eyes were very large and of an enchanting shade of grey that, were the rest of her features not so wholly different from the rest of the family, she could have been mistaken for a Malfoy. Her nose was small and pointed, and her fuller face was surrounded by strawberry blonde waspish hair that was made to look like it had escaped its stylish up-do, though Rose suspected it was done completely on purpose. She smiled warmly at Rose and Aphrodite as she stirred her tea with the most immaculate teaspoon Rose had ever seen.

Aphrodite took the seat next to Freya (thankfully – her emotionlessness scared Rose), and motioned for Rose to sit between her and Brigantia. Feeling decidedly out of place and suspecting she may vomit at any moment, Rose looked around the table awkwardly. She barely had time to take a breath when Nephthys clapped a hand over her own where it sat on the table and gushed loudly.

"Congratulations, Rosie," god she hated that nickname, but she'd be damned if she was going to mention it to any of them.

"Yes," Brigantia concurred as she put down her gold pearl-encrusted teaspoon that Rose was sure she would have had to bring with her (this place was nice, but it wasn't _that _nice), "We were so happy to hear about the news."

No. Surely they could _not_ have asked her to lunch to discuss the whole 'engagement' misunderstanding. The four of them could not have dropped whatever plans they no doubt had around this busy time of year, to come over to England to have lunch at some pompously expensive restaurant, just to discuss her non-engagement

"Scorpius has always been ever-so fond of you," Aphrodite interjected with a loving smile, "Always talking about you that boy."

Oh God. They really did ask her here to discuss the engagement. Oh hell.

Nephthys began to speak once more.

"He always said you were too good for him, but I never saw it," Ouch, "_No one_ is too good for our boy Scorpy. He's such a lovely, mature, kind-hearted boy, isn't he, Freya?"

Freya, who's eyes were trained on Rose, barely moved a muscle when she responded, "Yes," in a tone so free of emotion Rose momentarily wondered if the woman was actually a machine.

"And so intelligent," Brigantia interjected after she sipped her tea daintily, "So wise at such a young age."

Rose was quite sure they were talking about a different person from the Scorpius she knew. The cheeky little brat who was so accustomed to getting what he wanted that he would issue an _anti-retraction order_ to ensure things went his way was most certainly not wise.

Conniving? Yes.

Manipulative? Certainly.

Evil Genius? Potentially.

Twat? Without doubt.

Wise? No.

"So tell us dear!" Aphrodite looked at her with huge brown eyes that were still calculating, despite their warmth, "How did he do it?"

"It?" Rose asked in a voice that made her wonder is she had been a mouse in a previous life.

"The engagement dear!" Brigantia implored as she dabbed her napkin at the invisible crumbs in the corner of her mouth, "How did he propose?"

Rose swallowed loudly and took a moment to assess the situation. She sat at the best table in a restaurant her Gringotts account usually didn't permit her to even look at let alone eat in, with four of the most influential – and therefore busiest – women in the international magical community who, prior to this morning, had never shown any interest in her business and had most certainly never hinted at wanting to converse with her in an informal setting, and it was all because they (along with the wizarding community at large) were under the entirely incorrect impression that Rose was engaged to Scorpius Malfoy.

Well, well, well; wasn't this a pickle.

Rose was faced with two options – tell them the truth and most likely be booted out of the restaurant and never have the opportunity to do business with the ladies before her again; or two, go along with the façade and hope to drop some casual business talk into the conversation (there was a very important conference being held in several weeks that could either improve or impede international trade – having these four women on board for the English Ministry's proposal, and therefore having their husbands on board as well, could prove vital. If Rose was able to establish such support it would mean very good things for international relations and her career also).

This was no easy decision, and Rose's conscience was torn.

No, she couldn't lie to these women; she couldn't sacrifice her Granger morals just for the sake of her career. She needed to come clean and stop this terrible lie.

"It was all very intimate really, not a huge fan fare," well she hadn't the foggiest where that had come from, but it certainly wasn't the beacon of truth she was hoping to conjure. Oh well, she couldn't take it back now.

"Oh how lovely!" Brigantia exclaimed happily. She went silent and Rose realized it was her turn to speak; her duty to tell more of this horrendous lie.

"There's really not that much to tell, honestly," Rose shrugged and tried to smile reassuringly, "He just…he just asked. And I said," something in her stomach curled up and began a slow and painful death at the thought of what she was about to say, "I said yes."

Yep, there it went – something from deep inside had fallen down to the pit of her stomach in a lifeless blob. Rose had a niggling suspicion that it may be her soul.

"Surely he didn't just ask you!" Brigantia eyed her strangely, "After all this time, he finally gets up the courage to propose, and he just _asked…_?"

The notion of normality, it appeared, was completely beyond her comprehension.

"Yep – he just asked," Rose shrugged, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. Then something about Brigantia's last comment, "Wait – _finally?_"

Nephthys gave Brigantia a stern look that Rose was sure could kill flowers and small defenseless animals.

"Brigantia!" she hissed in a manner that was all too naturally snake-like to be safe.

Brigantia, displaying a mental strength Rose would forever be in awe of, simply dismissed Nephthys with a wave of her hand as she flicked her head snobbishly.

"Oh hush, Nephthys," she rolled her eyes dramatically, "Like you didn't think it would have happened sooner. The way he goes on about her..."

Rose didn't like the fact that they had begun to converse like she wasn't there.

"Be that as it may, it is not our place to judge when the timing is appropriate for a couple to get engaged," Nephthys commented.

"Indeed," Aphrodite joined the conversation, leaning forward slightly, "Especially when we weren't even aware they were a couple…"

"Are you two blind and deaf?!" Brigantia asked in jest though there was seriousness to her claims, "All these meetings we have and he always mentions her name, or asks about where to buy her jewelry from, or tells us something mildly entertaining that she did, and you seriously thought they _weren't _together? I'd be surprised if they'd not been dating at least 2 years."

Had Rose's mind not been trying to figure out how she had managed to suddenly turn herself invisible she may have acted to deny those claims.

"Yes, but being a couple and getting engaged are two very different things," Nephthys interjected diplomatically, "We were never sure whether he was in love or just infatuated with the girl. After all, he never explicitly mentioned his plans to propose."

"Oh but did you really find it all that surprising?" Brigantia looked between the other women at the table (besides Rose, further supporting her hypothesis that she was, in fact, invisible) with an accusing expression on her face, "The way he always spoke about her – is it really any wonder they've been in love all this time."

_Whoa. Let's slow down a minute lady. _

Rose was _not_ in love with Scorpius Malfoy. Especially not after this past week's fiascos. She wanted to tell the women so, but then remembered her and Scorpius were supposed to be engaged, so she guessed they were supposed to be in love.

Oh hell. She knew lying was a bad idea.

Nephthys interrupted Rose's internal monologue.

"Yes, but Rosie-dear," God that was worse than simply 'Rosie', "Clearly hasn't been aware of his intentions for as long as you have, Brigantia, therefore it's rude to bring it up."

"_Ladies_," Aphrodite interrupted with a stern look that held the promise of a grave fate was she not listened too. Rose was very happy she was not on the receiving end of it, "It doesn't matter about any of that now – they are very much in love and happily engaged. Now I think we should all allow _Rose dearest_," mildly better, "to finish telling her story."

Rose suddenly wished for her spontaneous invisibility back again so she didn't have to face these women – she was not going to like it one bit.

"Um, I've already said," she tried to smile convincingly but it was difficult when she was putting all her energy into not sweating up a storm, "He asked. I said yes."

"Yes but _how_ did he ask?" Aphrodite asked as she waved away a waiter; apparently they didn't actually _eat_, they just liked to frequent expensive restaurants and sip tea, "Did he take you out to dinner? Somewhere expensive in France perhaps?"

Rose felt her cheeks grow red as the lie she told threatened to swallow her whole it grew so large. She could do this; she could make up an entirely bogus story, all she had to do was think like a Malfoy. Surely it couldn't be too hard (in fact Rose momentarily reassured herself that Scorpius did very little thinking anyway, so therefore fabricating the truth as he did _had_ to be easy). She shrugged and smiled a little at the four very frighteningly accommodating ladies.

"Well we didn't go out to dinner," the ladies swapped suspicious looks, "Because he cooked for me instead."

Aphrodite's face lit up in glee as she clapped her hands together.

"A home made meal! How romantic! I never knew Scorpy could cook!"

_Time to swallow the pride Weasley._

"Oh you know Scorpy – he's just full of surprises," _like issuing an anti-retraction order and having the entire world thinking you're engaged to him – that was mighty surprising._

"Well what dish was it, Rosie love?" Brigantia said as she continued to stir her tea (really, was that cup bottomless?), eyes lit up with what Rose could almost consider real glee.

"It was quite traditional," she gathered confidence as she imagined the scene in her head, "A lamb rack, with red wine jus and a creamy potato mash," Rose noted how Freya blanched at the mention of potato – by the look of her, the woman probably hadn't _seen _a carbohydrate in the past 30 years let alone ingested one, "With rosemary sprig on top of course."

"Oh of course!" Brigantia concurred with a fake smile – she had no idea about food. This only reaffirmed Rose's earlier suspicions that the women didn't eat, at least not something as filling as lamb and potatoes. She took great pleasure in describing the next part in painstaking detail, just to make them all realize what they'd been missing for the past several decades.

"And then there was dessert," Freya turned a whiter shade of pale, "It was a chocolate self-saucing pudding that was so deliciously light and fluffy it was like eating chocolate clouds,"

_Don't salivate on the tablecloth Weasley._

"Topped with fresh raspberries and a raspberry coulis," Rose smiled to herself as a waiter finally poured her a cup of tea, "It was divine."

Rose took a sick satisfaction in how ill Freya looked, and how Brigantia was just about drooling. She raised her teacup to her lips and tried her best to look as dainty as the women she was seated with. She was 95% sure she failed.

"How lovely," Nephthys said without trying to sound sincere at all, "But the proposal Rosie – the proposal! How did he finally do it?"

There it was again – _finally._ She would be having words with Scorpius.

After she'd hexed him into oblivion.

Maybe she could just hex him into next week, then ask him about it next week, _then _hex him into oblivion. Yes, yes, that was a good plan.

Rose looked at the expectant expressions on the four ladies' (ok, three, because Freya's still hadn't changed) faces and tried her best to continue with the elaborate story.

"Well we were at his apartment you see," it was much nicer to imagine a romantic dinner at that old antique dining table of his rather than her shabby end table and standard white chairs that masqueraded as a dining set. Rose paused and tried to remember where she was going with this. For some reason she thought back to a line James always pulled out when covering his tracks with the tabloids – '_There's a trick to telling a convincing lie, Rosie, a trick that everyone will fall for, no matter how huge your fib is – all you have to do is wrap up it up in the truth. Add something you know they know for certain, it can be a tiny detail or a something huge; it doesn't matter. Once you've done that, no one will question you._' She could trust James on this – Merlin knew he'd gotten himself in and out of trouble enough times to be classed as a credible source. With this in mind, she pulled out the only bit of truth involving her and Scorpius that came anywhere close to being considered romantic and appropriate for lunchtime conversation in this part of town.

"After dinner we danced," she tried to remember exactly how it had been on Halloween, "We waltzed actually – I'm a terrible dancer, but Scorpius just kind of…carried me. Just like we did at The Ministry Halloween Gala, only it was around the lounge room, not a ballroom. And then eventually we weren't really moving anymore," she thought to outside on the balcony, " Just standing in his living room swaying. Neither of us said anything, even after the music had stopped – we just kept swaying. And then…then he asked. And I said yes."

Rose didn't realize, but she had been staring at the tablecloth for the most part of her story. Just like she didn't realize she had been grinning like a fool by the end of her speech. In fact it wasn't until she came back into complete consciousness at the sound of Nephthys sighing that she realized she had been rubbing the ring where it still sat concealed on her left hand in her lap under the table. It seemed James' little trick had worked so well she'd half convinced herself. But only half. For a very brief period of time. Now she was lucid and completely aware of the fact that she and Scorpius weren't engaged. Because Rose was an intelligent human being, which meant she had no desire to be engaged to and therefore marry a conniving snake like Scorpius Malfoy.

"Oh my," Brigantia blinked back what Rose suspected were tears as her lip quivered, "That is romantic. And just like Scorpy."

"Oh yes," Aphrodite concurred with a smile so stunning Rose wondered if she wasn't part Veela, "It's perfect."

"And what of the ring?" Rose damn near died when Freya actually spoke a coherent sentence, eying Rose with the same blank expression as before.

"Oh yes!" Brigantia beamed at Rose once more, "I saw it was the Malfoy heirloom in The Daily Prophet – such a stunning ring."

"Oh yes," Nephthys agreed with a nod of her head, "Such ancient jewelry – that type of craftsmanship just isn't around these days."

Aphrodite's gaze fell to where Rose hid her hands under the table. A curious expression crossed her face.

"Why Rosie dear," that nick name did _not _get better with time, "Where is the ring? It's not on your finger…"

Rose swallowed loudly and looked around at the varying expressions being shot at her from her lunch companions. She smiled uneasily as Aphrodite pulled her hand into view on top of the table to show the other women. Rose was nearly petrified by the look she received from Nephthys – that woman had to be part Basilisk surely. Rose's brain kicked into panic mode.

"Well I've concealed it, you see," _lie wrapped in truth, lie wrapped in truth_, "The Malfoy ring is such a precious artifact and so many people would want to get their hands on it, I feel almost in danger when I wear it. So I conceal it to avoid getting mugged you see; I'd just feel awful if it was stolen while I had it."

Well that was possibly the worst lie she had ever told in her life (trying to convince her father there was a Boggart in the cupboard upstairs that turned into a shoe-eating monster – because that was her worst fear – and it had eaten Hugo's new shoes when she was eight when in fact she had actually managed to unwittingly set them on fire still took the cake for her _worst_ lie ever). However, it seemed to convince the ladies around the table.

"Nonsense!" Nephthys chastised with a wave of her hand, suddenly becoming more human and less snake-like again much to Rose's pleasure, "Wearing a ring like that is what will _protect_ you against such common cretins, Rosie dear! If a thief sees you wearing this they know what family you belong to, and hence who they challenge if they dare threaten you. I guarantee you that no man, woman, or creature will try to commit such a common crime as theft when you wear this ring Rosie. That, combined with your hair which clearly indicates your parentage, will keep you safe from any foe."

"Precisely!" Aphrodite concurred with a reassuring smile as she rubbed Rose's hand and silently disabled the concealment charm, bringing the much discussed ring into full view, "Why the daughter of two war heroes that is engaged to a Malfoy? You, my dear, are untouchable."

Rose didn't like the idea of belonging to anyone, least of all a Malfoy. She was adamant that she was her own woman, and independent and self-sufficient and _did not _need a man to provide for her. _Especially_ when that man was Scorpius Malfoy. She didn't need a man to protect her – just ask dear cousins James or Albus and they would be first to concur that Rose Weasley was perfectly capable of out-dueling any male and had done so on many occasions. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and would never _ever_ allow herself to be degraded to simply an object owned by a man.

That said, the idea of being protected just by wearing a silly little ring did make her feel a little bit special. She always knew anyone who dared attack her must be thick as bricks given the fact that she was equal parts Weasley _and _Granger, but it was widely known that her parents had enemies; it was a given when you dedicated your life to fighting 'bad guys'. With her fake-engagement to Scorpius being so widely publicized, it gave an additional warning to anyone who dared approach her – not only would you suffer the wrath of Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter, but you'd also piss off the Malfoys. If Rose was in their position, she'd definitely avoid her like the Plague.

Maybe this fake engagement of theirs did have its advantages…

_No! Stop thinking like that Rose! Being associated with Scorpius Malfoy in that way is _not _what you want! It is the opposite of what you want – it's what you _don't _want. So don't even consider the plus sides. _

_Buuut…_

Her inner monologue was halted by Brigantia.

"Oh it is stunning!" she sighed dramatically as she waved down a waiter to pour her yet another cup of tea, "And it suits you perfectly."

"And it opens so many opportunities for your dress design," Aphrodite added with particular glee, "You could incorporate the snake detailing into embroidery around your neckline. I know a great designer in France – I have her make my outfits all the time! She just has an eye for detail, and doesn't mind coming to you…"

"Oh yes, and shoes from Italy, of course!" Brigantia added with a curt nod, "They simply make the _best_ dragon scale-inspired heels. I have a few designer friends – I'm sure they would be happy to help you put something together."

"And flowers from across the Mediterranean!" Nephthys added as she pulled out a small notebook that obviously had an array of contacts in it, "Lotus bouquets are just stunning and I'm sure we could find them in a shade that would…_compliment_, your hair colour."

Rose decided to ignore the not-so-subtle dig about her hair, and instead focused on the perfect opening for her business discussions.

"Oh well that all sounds lovely, as long as these new international trade laws don't go through next month," Rose sipped her tea and tried to appear casual when all the women stopped and turned to face her suddenly.

"What about the trade laws?" Aphrodite asked, suddenly quite serious, "I hadn't heard anything about changes being made."

"Why, they're due to be modified in the next few weeks," Rose said with a look of concern, "Providing at least 50% of the affected Ministries vote yes, there will be heavy restrictions enforced on the importation and exportation of a whole range of goods. Weren't you aware?"

Rose spent the remainder of the afternoon (because apparently, when you're in the company of Aphrodite Giannakos, Nephthys Bashandi, Brigantia Adamovich, and Freya Bloomfeld, 'lunch' is an umbrella term used to describe the entire afternoon and early evening) discussing several pressing topics. They included the new international trade laws, what colour she would wear in her hair, how the Puppeteers husbands' needed to vote in the upcoming conference, the style of dress and preferred heel height she needed to compliment Scorpius, how to deal with the unimpressed Ministries once the proposed changes were thwarted, and how many flowers she envisaged her bridesmaids (of which there would be at least six) would have. All in all Monday had been a very _interesting_ day.

Tuesday, however, was when the silver lining to this whole debacle disappeared into the great, ominous grey cloud it brought with it.

Rose's Tuesday had started much like her Monday had – enter the office, be congratulated by various people who hadn't had an opportunity to do so yesterday (including her boss who '_wasn't at all surprised' _by the development but would need to have '_a rather serious conversation_' with Rose and Scorpius when he returned in relation to the _'Ministry policy on office relations'_), deny the claim, have denial ridiculed and disregarded, try to work. Though the continuing tendency for everyone to tell her they knew more about her life than she did was growing annoying, Rose couldn't say that it was hugely inconvenient or disturbing.

The owl she received at approximately 10:13am, however, was.

It was curt and clearly a standard response letter. It read:

_Attention MS. ROSE WEASLEY,_

_The staff of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries wishes to inform you that your next of kin, MR. RONALD WEASLEY, has been admitted to our CASUALTY WARD. _

_Please come when convenient._

Rose was sure her heart stopped beating as she was momentarily frozen in her seat. It took her a moment or two before she jumped out of her chair and pulled on her travelling cloak. As she scrawled an inter-office note to her superior explaining that she had to leave immediately, she received a second note, this time from her mother.

_Rose,_

_Your father has had a fall, will explain at St. Mungos. Come at once._

_Mum xoxo_

Well that wasn't reassuring at all. Rose finished her very poorly written letter, sent it away with a flick of her wand, and then promptly ran to the floo network to go to St. Mungos.

Upon her arrival in the main lobby, she was directed to the Casualty Waiting Room where she was met with a tense and pacing Hermione Granger.

"Mum!" Rose called as she ran towards her mother, "What's happened? Is dad ok?"

Hermione embraced her daughter and patted her back reassuringly.

"Yes, yes, he's quite alright," she let go of Rose and shook her head softly, "I daresay his ego would have sustained the most damage."

Rose listened intently as her mother went on to explain exactly how Ronald Weasley, co-head of the Auror Department, managed to land himself in Casualty. It was nowhere near as horrific (nor heroic) as Rose had initially thought.

It turned out that Ron had arrived at work just like any other day after having Monday off due to his 'clumsy mishap' with the Miracle Hangover Potion. Despite Harry's discrete memo to avoid discussing the topic with Ron, people had begun congratulating him – and interrogating him – on his daughters' supposed union. This he had been prepared for. Ron had simply smiled and explained it was all a big misunderstanding, a practical joke that had been taken all too seriously by the people at The Prophet. He had reassured people that there was absolutely _nothing_ going on between his darling daughter Rosie and that Malfoy boy.

One man – who Rose planned to make a very unhappy one once she had tracked him down– had said something along the lines of _"You sure? That kiss sure looked mighty convincing…"_

To which her father had enquired what, exactly, the man was referring to.

He had then shown Ron a picture of Saturday morning's Prophet (_why did he just so happen to have a copy of it anyway, Rose would like to know)_ along with Saturday evening's copy with the love letter from Scorpius to Rose.

It was right about then that her father had met with his unfortunate fate.

Upon being blinded by rage and confusion, Ron Weasley had spun on his heel and ripped through the Auror Office so fast anyone would think the Big V himself was downstairs. Harry – lovely Uncle Harry – had tried to stop him from getting too far ahead of himself and had sent a little stunning hex his way to momentarily slow him down (Head Aurors were apparently able to perform hexes even within The Ministry). Only it hadn't exactly slowed him down, just made him tumble.

Right into a pole.

Which knocked him off balance.

Which made him trip over a stray box of paperwork.

Which just so happened to be placed in a doorway.

Which just so happened to be at the top of a set of stairs.

Which had been rather hard for him to negotiate with one stunned leg, a bump on the head, and unsteady feet.

The entire Auror office had watched as Ron Weasley, co-head of the office and famed war hero, went tumbling down a set of stairs whilst cursing _The Malfoy Spawn_. After one particularly vulgar curse word, there was a crack, a scream (which could have been mistaken for female had they not all witnessed Mr. Weasley disappear from view in a tumbling mess only moments earlier), a rather heavy thud, and then an eerie silence.

And that was how Ron Weasley had ended up in St Mungos with a suspected broken leg and large bump to the head. Harry had accompanied him in, apologized profusely to Hermione after explaining what had happened, then left – after all, they couldn't have _both_ Heads of Department out of the office too long. The staff had sent Rose a letter due to her being listed as her father's secondary contact (after a famous Weasley Christmas party a few years ago, Hermione had outright refused to help her husband to or from hospital when he had splinched his right leg clean off trying to perform some mundane party trick. Rose had taken her father to hospital and returned him home again safely in place of her mother. She had been his secondary contact ever since just in case such an incident occurred again). And that was where she now found herself, at approximately 10:18 Tuesday morning, watching as her mother, who was equal parts furious as she was worried, paced around the Waiting Room.

"So what you're saying," Rose said slowly as she processed everything her mother had just told her, "Is that, basically, Dad's got a broken leg because of me?"

Hermione shook her head and sighed dismissively.

"Of course not dear," she crossed her arms and glared off into the direction Rose suspected she thought her husband was in, "What I'm saying is that your father is in hospital because of his ridiculous temper. Had he just stopped and _thought_ about what he was doing than none of this would have happened."

Rose thought those words sounded strangely reminiscent of the speech her mother had given her just days beforehand about the kiss incident. No wonder her mother was so adept at that particular speech – it seemed she had used it often over the past few decades.

"Not to mention the buffoon who even mentioned The Prophet articles," her mother scowled in a slightly different direction, clearly where said buffoon stood in her mind, "Harry had sent out a memo – a _memo _for Merlin's sakes! Don't they know memos are to be followed explicitly?!"

Rose attempted to calm her mother down, seeing that even if her father was recovering ok, her mother clearly wasn't in a state to be left on her own. Given the circumstances, Rose sent a quick owl to her boss letting him know that she wouldn't be in for the rest of the day in order to be by her mother's side. Her boss had had no qualms in allowing her the day's leave; especially not after the good work she'd done the day before with The Puppeteers. So Rose spent the rest of her day holding her mother's hand when she was still for a few blessed moments, or simple nodding and complying with her ramblings when she continued to pace.

Two agonizingly long hours later and they were finally allowed through to see her father. He had been sedated – apparently whenever he wasn't unconscious he would babble randomly and quite passionately about '_that damn ferret spawn!'_ and the number of things he was planning to do when he saw him. Though his leg seemed to be a clean break and should therefore heal quite well and quickly, the bump he'd suffered was a little more serious than originally thought,. That, combined with his mad, furious ramblings when he was conscious led the staff to wonder as to his sanity after the blow. Hermione assured them it was just her husband's temper, but they had insisted on keeping him in for observation. Therefore he was required to stay in hospital for a number of days. Though Rose would never had said so out loud, she took this as a small blessing – if her father was hospital-ridden for the next few days there was no way he could interfere with her plans to get this whole thing sorted. She loved her family, she really did, but she did not need them trying to keep control of her life. She could do that herself. If she got herself into this mess it was her job to get herself out of it.

Rose and Hermione sat by Ron's bedside from then on. Rose took this time to write out more insults and hexes she was planning to unleash on an unsuspecting Scorpius come tomorrow morning, whilst Hermione took the opportunity to write a very angry letter to the man responsible for telling Ron about the kiss. She still didn't have his name, but Hermione Weasley had ways of finding out these things, even if she had to get it out of Harry. It was moments like these that Rose realized just how alike she and her mother were. It was almost scary.

Over the course of the next several hours, they had received several owls from the family Hermione had contacted letting them know about Ron's little accident. Although most of them were satisfied with Hermione's explanation of matters and reassurance that they really didn't need to visit, others were not as content. Hugo had dropped in after work with 'supplies' from Honeydukes to help everyone's nerves, Grandma and Grandpa Weasley had been in for several hours and had managed to smuggle in enough food to feed a small army (Rose had looked forward to sampling Grandma Weasley's delicious scones but suddenly lost her appetite when they mentioned the story in The Prophet over the weekend and required Rose explain just how, exactly this had all come about). Harry had dropped in momentarily after work to make sure everything was ok, and he was quickly followed by Ginny, who somehow managed to coerce her parents to leave after being there for four hours, something Rose was very thankful for. It left the place in piece with just her and her mother for the next few hours.

Come 9pm Rose departed, urging her mother to do the same soon – after all, it wasn't much use to just sit here and look at him for hours on end. He was essentially sleeping, just without the snoring, so she should really just go home and get some sleep for herself. Hermione assured her daughter that she would, that she was just going to stay for the next half hour or so as she went over her 13th draft of her angry letter. Rose smiled, quite certain she wouldn't leave before 11 at the earliest. After flooing home she couldn't even be bothered having anything for dinner. Rose simply fed her owl, took off her robes, and climbed into bed in her underwear. Physically and emotionally exhausted after the past few days, she slept very well for a very long time.

Too long.

Through her two-hour-earlier-than-usual alarm in fact.

And her one-and-a-half-hour-earlier-than-usual alarm.

Her one-hour-earlier-than-usual alarm, however, managed to rouse her from her sleep.

Rose sprung out of bed as flexible and agile as a cat. Until her feet got tangled in her robes from yesterday which she had left in a pile beside her bed. She fell on the floor, cursed her damned robes, and went about getting ready for the day ahead in record time. She had managed to shower, eat breakfast, revise her notes, get dressed, revise some more, have a cup of tea, revise even more, then floo to work in a little under one and a half hours, leaving her ample time to set up battle-stations in at the office.

But of course, like everything in her life of late, nothing went quite to plan.

Upon her arrival at the office, her plan of getting Scorpius unaware and unprepared had gone swimmingly – she had arrived at the office a solid 45 minutes before she was required and had brought her 32 pages of notes plus the additional 12 she had managed to get written at the hospital yesterday. Unfortunately, Rose was so busy sifting through said papers of hexes and jinxes, her bag unceremoniously stuffed under her armpit and wand between her teeth as she walked into her office, that she hadn't noticed it was already occupied.

A thick, velvety voice she unfortunately knew all too well rung in her ears not three seconds after she had stepped into her office.

"Hello Love."

Rose's head snapped up to meet the eyes of the intruder. There, perched against her desk like it was his own, stood Mr. Scorpius Malfoy, bane of her existence and current pain in her ass. Rose stood frozen in place, trying to get over the fact that he had beaten her and caught _her_ unprepared, instead of the other way around. He smirked at her, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes shining with an amount of glee she had never before witnessed in their grey depths.

"Miss me?"

* * *

><p><em>Ta da! So Chapter 6 is finally finished. Hope you enjoyed it! This is crazy, I don't think I've ever written something this long from start to finish before in chronological order; this is a whole new ball game for me.<em>

_Please review – it would really make my day if you did._

_Promise the next chappie will be more interesting with more Scorpius and Rose verbal/not-so-verbal sparring ;)_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N. Hello fanfiction world. _

_Well. It's been a long time between drinks. Believe me when I say that there is not a soul on this Earth who is more excited for this chapter to have finally been written then me. There have been many obstacles from general busyness at uni to unbreakable writer's block to a frustratingly persistent illness that have prevented progress (and almost driven me insane in the process). However, everything has been sunshine and lollipops for a few weeks now and, hence, this little__ chapter could be churned out. I hope you enjoy, despite its briefness. All my love forever and always to anyone who is still following/reading/reviewing this fic – you literally make my life brighter and for that I cannot thank you enough._

_Also, apologies as always for any and all mistakes throughout – this was largely written during the wee hours of the morning and my ability to proof read my own stuff isn't great at the best of times. Furthermore, this chapter changes perspectives a few times (even though its not first-person), so I hope that doesn't confuse or annoy people too much. _

_**Disclaimer – **__I'm not J.K. Rowling….I'M ROBERT GALBRAITH BITCHES! (That's c__learly a lie, I am neither and I do not own any names you recognize). _

_Please review - they inspire me and make me happy :)_

* * *

><p>Rose had dedicated a great amount of time and brainpower into thinking up witty and ingenious remarks to say to Malfoy when she saw him next. In fact, said witty remarks took up a solid 8 pages of the 44 she held in her hands. Each one was as funny and deeply intellectual as the last.<p>

Unfortunately, when faced with Scorpius Malfoy in the flesh, looking so smug and pigheaded and _Malfoy-ish _with his blonde hair and his grey eyes and his annoyingly pointy and perfect cheekbones and that damn – _FOCUS ROSE!. _The point was, when she saw him sitting there, on _her _desk, every single one of those ingenious remarks flew out of her head. It's like his smugness and smarmy stuck-up-ness forced her brain to malfunction and her memory to collapse. There was something; something deep within that smirk of his that destroyed her memory and ignited her fury until it was almost blinding. With no witty retort or intelligent insult, Rose said the one phrase that seemed to still be floating around in her head (besides _'Kill the Bastard!')_.

"_ANTI-RETRACT THIS ASSHOLE!"_

With a wild wave of her arm and a well-practiced incantation, Rose sent the strongest stinging hex she could muster (which was a very powerful one at that) at Scorpius Malfoy's precious, curiously calm, face.

At least she planned to.

Instead, there were a few unimpressive sparks at the end of her wand, accompanied by a faint 'Pffszt' noise and absolutely nothing else. Malfoy wasn't sent flying back over her desk clutching his face and screaming in pain. He wasn't sprouting apologies and begging her for forgiveness. He just sat there, completely normal, as Rose stared at the end of her wand in total disbelief and bamboozlement. She did the incantation again and still nothing. That's when the devil-spawn decided to speak.

"We're at the Ministry, love," he gave her a self-loving smirk, "Hex-free zone."

Arrogance seemed to spew from his every pore as he gestured to his person.

"You can't touch me."

Her eye twitched violently as she stared him down, his words ringing in her ears.

_You can't touch me._

_You. Can't. Touch. Me._

The hell she couldn't!

* * *

><p>Before he had enough time to gather his next breath, Scorpius was thrown back against Rose's desk, the woman herself on top of him throwing punches left, right and center, all the clutter she'd been holding sprawled forgotten in the doorway. She was completely uncontrollable. (Had she been in any clear state of mind that may have scared Rose ever so slightly. As it was, she just continued to assault him.)<p>

"Here!" she said with a deadly gleam in her eye as she looked between his face and where _his_ ring sat on her left hand, "Seeing as you like the ring so god damn much, have a taste!"

Then she punched him in the mouth.

Literally. _In the mouth_.

Scorpius thought he may have heard and felt one of his teeth crack.

"Merlin! Ro – ah!" He couldn't decide whether it was more important that he clutch his mouth to check of damage and stop himself from swallowing his fraction of tooth he was sure was now floating around in there somewhere, or try to get her madly flailing fists restrained. When she landed a particularly hard punch to the top of his chest, he decided controlling her hands was of a greater priority.

"Don't you think you're – ah! – overreacting?!" he managed to capture one of her wrists in his hand but she only used it to throw his own hand back into his nose. He may have heard something crack then too. He wasn't sure whether it was the back of his skull from being thrown into the desk, his nose from having his hand thrust onto it, or the desk itself which was not designed to support the weight of the two people atop it.

"_Over-reacting?!"_ as soon as he heard her screech he knew he'd said the wrong thing. The doubling speed and force she used to assault him only reinforced it further, "My father is in _hospital_ because of your little joke and you think I'm _OVER REACTING?!"_

"Ok that I am truly sorry for," Scorpius managed to get in before Rose slapped him across the face (gauging by the sound he suspected he'd have a hand-print there for a solid week), "Merlin and Morgana! Would you stop?!"

"Stop?! Oh I can't!" she slapped his hands away from where they were trying to tame her, an altogether new and frightening gleam of pure maniacal pleasure shining back at him, "I've made my fists sign an _anti-retraction statement!_"

She gave him another solid punch to the nose, which had him wincing and thoroughly dazed for several seconds. Yep, something in there was broken too.

"It is _completely_ beyond my control now," her voice rose several octaves as she pulled back her hand once more, "So you'll just have to put up with it!"

She tried to slap him again, but he managed to catch her hand. By some stroke of luck he managed to capture the second one that was aiming right for his nose again (seriously, why was she always aiming for his nose? Did she not like his nose? Or did she like his nose so much that this was all some kind of – _you have a psychotic Weasley on top of you; FOCUS!) _With both her hands restrained, Scorpius tried to talk some sense into her over the grunting and heaving she was doing trying to get free (it may have been distracting under different circumstances, but given that she seemed to want to actually kill him, he dismissed any urges fairly quickly).

"Rose," he struggled to keep a firm grasp on her wrists as she struggled and muttered something that sounded like '_turd-munching, no-good, rat-bastard!'_, "Rose, please just listen to me – I had no intention of this effecting your father."

"No intention?!" she scowled at him and seemed to stay fairly stationary for a blissful minute, "And how, pray tell, was my supposed engagement _to you_ NOT supposed to effect my father? Huh?! In what twisted alternate universe does me marrying a Malfoy _not_ effect my father?"

Scorpius had no response for that one. Although, if she took the time to ask him why he didn't answer (even though he knew she wouldn't) he would say the prettiness of her eyes blinded him and caused him to forget his entirely plausible answer. Thankfully he was not required to answer in such a way (which probably saved his nose from yet another close encounter with her fist. Rose didn't seem to appreciate his poetic side). He was not required to answer due to the very worrying sound that rang through the entirely empty room.

Something that could best be described an eerie creak that sounded sort of like a wooden animal giving birth very slowly emerged from somewhere in their direct proximity. Scorpius froze, eying the room the best he could with his badly assaulted features to try and pinpoint where, exactly, the noise was coming from.

"Are you going to answer me?!" Apparently Rose hadn't heard the sound, and made a move to hit him again. He kept his grip on her wrists firm, still trying to listen for the source of the unsettling sound. When Rose grunted and shifted around on the desk (and _dear Merlin_ his lap), Scorpius shushed her impatiently.

That probably wasn't the best move.

"Oh I'm sorry," the sarcasm dripping from her words as they rose in volume steadily, "_Am I inconveniencing you? _Gee, if there's one thing I didn't want, it was to make things _uncomfortable_ for you! Now will you...Just….Merlin Scorpius – LET GO OF ME!"

It happened so quickly he barely had time to breathe let alone act.

With an almighty crack (and a squeal from the woman above him) Scorpius and Rose were sent tumbling to the floor in a flurry of wood and red untamed hair. With the heavy landing Scorpius was sure he felt _something_ in his back go _somewhere_ it wasn't supposed to, ripping the air from his lungs swiftly and most painfully. He coughed once or twice, trying to remember why this all seemed like a good idea. Because last time he checked, having shards of wood and Merlin knows what random bits of stationary inserted into his person was not part of the road to happiness.

He opened his eyes (_when had he closed them?_) and found himself encased by a veil of _red_. There was only one other time he had the pleasure of witnessing such a thing, and that was last month when Rose had been above him (in a position not totally dissimilar to how they found themselves currently), her smile radiating down at him as he watched the remnants of euphoria wash over her face.

Never in his life had he ever witnessed something so beautiful.

He may have had the same thought now had he not been seriously concerned for his back and general ability to breathe. Instead he simply watched the shock wash over her face as she tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"Did," she started but had to stop to fully understand what she was about to say, "Did my desk just break?"

"Yep," the word came out as little more than a wheeze as oxygen very slowly returned to his body.

"But," she stopped again, raising herself up on her hands that he only just realized were no longer clasped in his own. Wait. Then what were his hands holding? He was most definitely holding something. A moment later it registered that he was now holding Rose against himself, arms wrapped around her and hands placed firmly in the center of her back. Well, he hadn't the foggiest how that happened. Though he couldn't say he was displeased that it did.

Rose tried to speak once more, "But how did it –"

"Are you ok?" the question came out entirely without his permission, cutting her off which he was almost certain would land him another punch to his badly bruised (possibly broken) nose. Instead she just looked at him strangely through the sea of red surrounding them in their own little bubble of reality. It was as if his comment had knocked her off guard, her fury and enthusiasm from just moments earlier lost as she sat, still straddling him in amongst the wreckage of her desk. She looked away from his eyes to study the disarray in her office, pushing some of her locks behind her ear, breaking their bubble.

"My…my desk. It just…"

Scorpius' hand reached up on its own accord and stroked her cheek. He was mad, of that he was sure. There is no way he could get away with this without losing one, maybe three appendages. Obviously concussed and not thinking clearly, he ignored such warnings and instead settled his hand on the side of her face, stroking over her cheekbone with his thumb as his fingers wound their way into that mane of hair he loved so much.

"Are you ok?" he spoke directly and slowly, his voice almost recovered from the fall as he stared into her confused eyes, "Are you hurt?"

She froze and for a moment he was sure she was going to punch him again. Instead, she took a shallow breath and Scorpius tried his hardest not to notice how tempting her lips looked.

"My," she stuttered and swallowed whatever had risen in her throat in hope of reestablishing the ability to speak. Scorpius found the movement most distracting, "My knees…"

She was still shocked, Merlin bless her – she really couldn't comprehend that they'd broken her desk. He would have laughed at her if he wasn't so damn distracted by how nice her hands felt where they rested against his chest. And how nice her legs felt. And basically how nice any part of her anatomy connected with his own felt. You know, besides the few parts of said anatomy that may very well be broken. Otherwise he felt swell.

_Phoopzzt!_

The sound was most peculiar and drew both Rose's and Scorpius' attention straight away. There, kneeling in the doorway was a rather short man in a rather funny hat. And in his hands he held a camera. He stared at the bewildered pair for a second before starting to back away on his knees very slowly, terror clear in his eyes.

"Is that…" Rose's consciousness seemed to be kicking back into gear, her eyes narrowing and any hint of the something-that-wasn't-rage-but-couldn't-be-properl y-identified that had been there mere seconds ago disintegrated as her fingers began to claw – _yes, literally claw – _at his chest, "Is that a _reporter_?"

Scorpius took a much too painful to be healthy breath and let it out slowly and painfully. "Yep."

Without further ado, Rose burst to her feet yelling profanities as she snatched her wand off the floor and darted after the small rotund man who was now sprinting for his life.

"Get back here!" Scorpius heard her yell, not yet ready to try and raise himself from the floor, "Get back here you insolent little-!"

There was a dull _'Pffszt'_ and Scorpius suspected she had once again forgotten about the whole 'No hexing within the Ministry' rule. This was supported by the _"CURSED BLASTED TROLLOP OF A RULE!"_ followed by another array of profanities that rang out in the empty office. Scorpius did not pity the man.

"Come back here!" he heard her screech again, almost reaching the staircases surely, "Come back here and – hah! Take that!"

There was a clatter and a splat but no thud of a body so Scorpius figured no one had been seriously maimed. The squeaky gasp and the silence that encompassed the office following it did not reinforce his nerves however.

"_MISS WEASLEY_!" the great booming baritone of Mr. Grannet, head of Department and, consequently, Scorpius and Rose's boss, rang through the office, "_Why_ did you just throw an ink stamp at my person?"

"I didn't throw it at _you_ sir," she responded sheepishly and Scorpius had to do his best to hold in a snigger, "I was aiming for the reporter."

There was a beat of silence before Mr. Grannet's voice rang out again, "And what in the name of Merlin have you done to your knees?"

* * *

><p>Mr. Bartholomew Grannet The Third (or Junior Junior as his grandfather had called him) had not expected anything particularly eventful to happen this particular Wednesday, his 3001st day being Head of The Department of International Magical Cooperation. Wednesdays tended to be quite good to him – good ole Hump Day, once it was over and done with he could take refuge in the fact that there was officially less than half a week until the weekend. Wednesday's were, typically, fairly same-old-same-old and that's exactly the way Bartholomew Grannet liked it.<p>

Therefore, it was most surprising when a small fat man had pushed past him as he entered the Office (he considered walking the staircases from the ground floor to his office as his required daily exercise), apparently in quite a hurry to get away from the area. This was strange for as far as Mr. Grannet was aware, no one was ever in the office before him. (It was only right that, as Head of Department, he be there bright and early to ensure the day got off to a good start.) He pondered momentarily that this man may be a thief and contemplated apprehending him when the next completely unexpected event occurred.

An ink stamp – a very old, very large, and considerably weighty office-issue ink stamp – went flying past his head and crashed into the wall beside him.

His hand reflexively flew to his pocket for his wand as he tried to determine what or who was attacking him with stationary supplies. Surprise number three appeared in the form of Rose Weasley, apparent stamp-thrower, who let out a worried squeak as she bit her lip furiously. Upon closer inspection, he noticed her knees were bloodied and bruised, and her robes were covered with what seemed like splinters.

_So much for same-old same-old._

* * *

><p>Mr. Grannet eyed the two before him most suspiciously. In one chair sat Rose Weasley, red-faced and looking at anything that wasn't her colleague, her badly scratched knees haphazardly bandaged for the time being. Next to her sat Scorpius Malfoy, Rose's work partner and recent fiancée, slumped in a chair due to an inability to sit up straight, back badly damaged and head held back as he pressed a handful of tissues to his nose in an attempt to stop it bleeding (although it had only appeared bruised initially, upon finally standing semi-upright gravity played its part and suddenly what had been bruised nose with a small trickle of blood was now blackened and gushing. Hence the tissues). Plus, Rose's desk was broken.<p>

Well, seeing them explain this one was going to be interesting.

"So," Mr. Grannet looked between the pair, Miss. Weasley looking sheepish whilst Mr. Malfoy strummed happily on his thigh with his free hand. He seemed much too relaxed and cheerful for a man whose nose was bleeding that badly, "Care to explain what happened to you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I was attacked," he declared confidently, yet surprisingly without fear or distress. Well, it hardly seemed likely he'd broken his own nose.

"By whom?" Mr. Grannet did not suffer fools or trickery.

"What." He didn't phrase it as a question. At least Grannet didn't think he did.

"What?" Grannet clarified.

Mr. Malfoy simply attempted to nod and replied, "Exactly."

It was too early in the morning for riddles and Grannet felt his considerably limited patience wearing thin.

"What?!"

"Yes that's right – what."

"_Scorpius!_" Miss. Weasley muttered warningly, picking up on the anger building within Grannet that the young Mr. Malfoy was apparently unable to detect. Mr. Malfoy glanced at her sideways (he possibly smiled; one couldn't see much past the tissues) before restating.

"It was a what sir – _what_ attacked me, not whom."

Grannet waited for further elaboration, but it soon become apparent that Mr. Malfoy did not feel it necessary to continue. The man was an infallible charmer and very intelligent – Grannet knew this when he hired him – but that didn't stop him from being a pain in the ass on occasion. Like now, for example.

"And…_what_ attacked you?"

There was definitely visible cheek indentation the same as that made when smiling behind Mr. Malfoy's tissues as he replied. "A squirrel."

Not the answer Mr. Grannet was expecting.

From the way in which Miss. Weasley almost caused herself serious whiplash as she turned her head quickly to look at her work colleague and fiancée, he imagined it wasn't what she was expecting either.

"A squirrel?" Mr. Grannet heard himself clarifying.

"Yes," Malfoy looked as if he was attempting to nod but due to his injuries, he couldn't, "An extremely feisty, rare red squirrel. Scottish native I believe."

The way in which Miss. Weasley shifted in her seat and crossed her arms did not escape Grannet. Just as the scowl she shot Mr. Malfoy didn't either.

"Is that so?" he turned his attention back to Malfoy, "And how, pre tell, did a _squirrel_ manage to do that to your face."

"Squirrels have claws sir, especially the rare red squirrels. In fact not only does it have ferocious claws, but it also has fangs. And surprisingly forceful tiny fists when it's really mad. Can crack right through a man's tooth. Or three."

Grannet was almost certain there was another meaning to the young man's words – especially seeing as Miss. Weasley let out a heavy sigh at the conclusion of his speech – but he hadn't a clue what it all meant. He suspected that not knowing was better than having certain suspicions (such as the possibility that the recently engaged couple had taken liberties with the interpretation of 'Hump Day') confirmed.

"And how did this squirrel get into the building?" Grannet quizzed the couple, clearly not believing the story Mr. Malfoy was feeding him.

"Through an entry point I assume."

"Mr. Malfoy…" he warned, patience wearing steadily thinner.

"Well I didn't discuss logistics with the squirrel prior to its mauling of my face, sir."

"I am in no mood for your whit Mr. Malfoy."

"Apologies sir, I meant no disrespect."

Miss. Weasley made a sound that he thought may have been a snort. Or maybe it was just a strange cough? She smiled sheepishly at him before diverting her attention back to the floor.

"So this squirrel that attacked you," Grannet looked between them with a speculative eyebrow raised – this was a blatant lie and he knew it, he just couldn't prove it, "I am assuming it was the size of a man, was it?"

Scorpius looked mildly confused from behind his bloody tissues.

"No…?"

Grannet internally smirked as the lie began to unravel.

"I'm trying to ascertain, Mr. Malfoy," he leant forward on his desk and looked between them slowly, "How a squirrel was the cause of Miss. Weasley's desk breaking?"

Miss. Weasley's face turned a particularly translucent shade of white, whilst Mr. Malfoy simply smiled again and attempted to nod vaguely.

"Yes, well, that too is the result of the squirrel. Indirectly."

Grannet smiled openly – he hadn't this much fun in _years. _He loved his job but politicians just weren't as slimy or creative as they used to be and that tended to make tings boring at times. But young Mr. Malfoy, pain in the ass or not, was most certainly creative in his lies and trickery. Grannet liked it – it made things interesting.

Mr. Grannet gestured for Mr. Malfoy to continue.

"Well, you see," Malfoy adjusted stiffly in his seat and conjured a few new tissues to add to the pile packed under his nose that were growing increasingly bloody, "The squirrel was clearly causing a ruckus, what with it's attacking me unprovoked and all."

Miss. Weasley let out an indignant snort and glared at Mr. Malfoy.

"During the battle –"

"With the rodent," Mr. Grannet interjected most helpfully. He took great delight in the way Mr. Malfoy faltered at the statement.

"I believe the squirrel is a mammal, sir."

Grannet smirked and clasped his hand together on his desk, "Indeed it is; subsection _rodent_."

Mr. Malfoy gave a tight-lipped grin in admission of defeat – 1 point to Grannet – whilst his fiancée merely smirked at him before growing serious once more.

"Yes, well, during this battle I had managed to force the creature from my person. It promptly ran around the office before jumping on Rose's desk," he placed his hand on Miss. Weasley's thigh momentarily before she pushed it off. They were acting very strangely – not very intimateat all for a couple that recently got engaged. However, this could be a deliberate attempt to mask their unbridled sexual tension in order for Grannet to believe their story in favour of the rather more likely situation that they had been using Miss. Weasley's desk for _physical activities_ at the time of destruction. Well it was going to take a lot more than mild hostility to fool Bartholomew Grannet The Third. Mr. Malfoy continued.

"Then both of us attempted to stop the creature from wreaking any more havoc on the stunning surroundings of these fabulous offices – which you have personally kept in spectacular condition, by the way – by jumping on top of said rodent to seize its miniature fists of destruction," Mr. Malfoy remained eloquent and charming despite the tissues blocking a primary air supply; it was a talent to be admired, "And hence we both jumped on the desk to restrain it. With our combined weight, plus the added force of movement which has to be accounted for – and the squirrel of course – the desk, which was getting on in years I must say, simply broke beneath us."

Grannet nodded slowly, a smile threatening to break across his features. He looked between the two of them – Miss. Weasley was still avoiding eye contact with anything that wasn't the carpet – leaving a dramatic pause before questioning them further.

"And what happened to the squirrel?"

"The squirrel?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Grannet let a few too many teeth show as he spoke – but it was most certainly _not _a smile, "This red-furred, furious squirrel you were so intent on capturing – do I need to call a cleaner to remove its remains from the desk-wreckage in Miss. Weasley's office?"

Mr. Malfoy let out a very polite, totally forced laugh that Grannet was sure pleased many clients.

"No, no – unfortunately the squirrel will live to fight another day as we failed to apprehend it."

"I see," Mr. Grannet nodded thoughtfully as he tried to decide whether or not to try and rip their story to shreds, or just accept it and move on. He didn't really want to hear about the shenanigans they were really getting up to (or just how, exactly, Mr. Malfoy's nose came to be in the state of disarray it currently was). So, to take pity on two of his best workers, Grannet decided to let sleeping dogs lie and simply accept the blatantly fabricated tale. However, accepting their story didn't mean they could get off without any sort of punishment.

"Well that is most unfortunate, especially considering the price of replacing the desk," he let the statement hang in the air for a moment. The unnaturally quiet Miss. Weasley opened her mouth to speak (and judging by the fire in her eyes, she was not impressed with the subtle suggestion). She didn't get a chance to respond, however, as Mr. Malfoy spoke up before she could utter a syllable.

"I would be happy to cover the cost of half the desk," he smiled brightly although Mr. Grannet could detect the slyness hiding behind it, "For it was my body weight which caused the break, I mean, considered the _age _and rather deteriorating state the desk was in, it was most unwise for me to land on it as hard as I did. I daresay a heavy box of parchments would have been all it required to break before – how well is it expected to hold up when faced with the weight of a fully grown man?"

Mr. Malfoy let his statement hang in the air in a similar manner to how Mr. Grannet had let his. The older man couldn't help but smile – Mr. Malfoy was abundantly arrogant, dangerously charismatic, deviously clever, and a general smartass most of the time, but damn he was a good negotiator. Grannet conceded with a nod, "Of course. Half and half is of course the logical option."

There was a silence that emanated throughout the room, only being broken by Mr. Malfoy's rearranging of tissues every now and then. Miss Weasley, looking increasingly uncomfortable by the second, smiled sweetly at Mr. Grannet with kind eyes that clearly wanted to get out of the office as soon as possible.

"Pardon me, sir," she said, most politely, "But is there anything further you wish to discuss? Because if there wasn't I do have some paper work that I need to-"

"There is something else, Miss. Weasley," he interrupted her as he shuffled a few totally irrelevant papers on his desk. He had really been avoiding having this conversation – Weasley and Malfoy were his best young team and worked tremendously well together. He wanted to keep them in this Department, as partners, because it was assured that while they were on a case, relationships would never become too strained, and they were usually able to get the outcome the Ministry wanted.

But rules were rules. And Bartholomew Grannet the Third did not hold the post of Head of Department for eight fruitful years by breaking or disregarding them.

So this conversation, and its obvious consequences, had to happen.

"Well as you know, inner-office relationships are not permitted," he watched the woman's face grow red and her eyes become angry. He empathized with her – no one was sadder to see the demise of the partnership than he was. But alas, rules must be followed. He continued, "As the two of you are clearly in a very serious relationship, I cannot permit you both to continue working here."

Miss. Weasley was about to retort – rather loudly by the look of it – but was cut off by her fiancée.

"That won't be a problem, sir," Mr. Malfoy interjected with a disconcerting wobble of his head (_was it attached properly?_ _Because that had not seemed normal_). From what could be seen of the young man's eyes, they seemed to be growing more glazed over in the passing minutes.

Mr. Grannet was becoming confused. And he did detest being confused. "Excuse me?"

"There isn't a problem," that trademark smile was there again. Or at least it would have been, had tissues not been obstructing the view, "Rose and I both knew this was coming – you can expect my letter of resignation by the end of the week."

"_What?!_" the exclamation came from Miss. Weasley. Mr. Grannet had to admit his own thoughts mirrored hers.

"Don't sound surprised, dear, we've talked about this." Mr. Malfoy gave a companionable pat to his fiancée's leg – delicately missing her damaged knee – with the hand that wasn't occupied by holding tissues to his nose. He retracted his hand before Miss. Weasley could push it off once more.

Mr. Grannet recovered some composure and calm himself down (_You knew this was coming Bartholomew, as soon as you saw the paper on Saturday you knew this was inevitable. Just take comfort in the fact you've still got Weasley), _"You're planning to transfer to another department then I assume, Mr. Malfoy?"

There was something that flashed in the blonde-haired man's eye briefly before they became a little glazed over once more, "No. No, actually I'm leaving the Ministry. For good."

"_Leaving the Ministry_?" Mr. Grannet was outraged and embarrassingly panicked (if he left all together there was absolutely no hope of getting him back when Weasley inevitably left on Maternity Leave. This was simply devastating), "Completely cutting ties?"

"Yes, but may I request, if you don't mind sir, could we perhaps continue this conversation after I receive medical attention? I don't think…that is to say I feel a little…." Malfoy slumped a little further in his chair and seemed to be having difficulty holding his head fully upright. The hand that had been happily tapping his thigh at the commencement of the meeting was now lying limp on his lap where it only twitched every so often.

Mr. Grannet had the fleeting thought that perhaps seeking medical attention for the pair should have been a higher priority than convening the meeting. But he had been flustered after almost dying by way of ink stamp. Therefore he could not be held accountable.

Mr. Grannet rose and gestured to the floo in his office (he didn't like others using it, but considering an employee of his was currently struggling to remain conscious, he seemed it would be inappropriate _not _to offer it), which Mr. Malfoy managed to hobble to slowly and probably painfully. He disappeared a few moments later, safely on his way to St. Mungos.

Mr. Grannet turned to find Miss. Weasley still sitting in her chair, staring at his desk with a most puzzled look on her face. He took note of her knees, which had clearly taken a battering throughout the '_Squirrel Incident_'.

"Miss. Weasley," she jumped when he said her name and turned to face him, "Do you also require medical assistance?"

Miss. Weasley looked confused before looking back at her knees.

"No," she said most unassertively, "No I…I'll be fine."

Grannet smiled (one less claim on work place safety – that was a win in his book).

"Did you have anything else you wished to discuss?"

Miss. Weasley seemed to contemplate that for a moment before shaking her head vaguely, standing and leaving his office without another word.

As he sat at his desk and prepared to ready himself for the day ahead before the office was a buzz with people, Mr. Bartholomew Grannet the Third sent a quick prayer to any and every divine being in existence that that conversation be the weirdest thing he had to endure today.

* * *

><p>Rose left Mr. Grannet's office mulling over the events of the morning in her mind.<p>

Firstly, her desk was broken. That wasn't good. She had a lot of valuable possessions and really…great…_stuff_ tucked away in that desk, and now it was all littered across her floor in various states of togetherness ranging from '_mostly unharmed'_ to '_pulverized_'. She was not looking forward to cleaning all of it up.

Her desk was broken because she had viciously (though not regretfully) assaulted Scorpius Malfoy atop of said desk. She may have broken his nose. And several of his teeth.

_And he deserved every goddam blow the conniving bastard!_

They had been photographed in a potentially compromising position, which people could misinterpret in a similar manner to that damn letter and Halloween Ball photograph. Then she'd thrown an ink stamp at the stupid reporter's head as he fled the office (_coward!_), which had almost hit her boss. Her boss who was not impressed with the state of her desk.

And despite him having every opportunity to tell Grannet exactly what had happened and how she had defended her honor quite aggressively, Scorpius had made up some bogus squirrel story. She could recognize that he was subtly mocking her in the process (_rare red squirrel with claws – what an asshole_), but that didn't change the fact that he didn't rat her out. In fact he told the lie and hence risked punishment on his behalf as well if the truth came out. He even offered to pay for half of her new desk.

Maybe he just did it so she couldn't get the opportunity to explain _why _she had attacked him, and hence unravel his evil plan, which seemed to revolve around making her life as miserable as possible. Yeah, that seemed entirely plausible.

So then why did he volunteer to leave? And not just hand over his position as her partner, but actually _leave the Ministr_y?

The best thing about getting a job at the Ministry was security – once you were in, you were in. You could switch positions, departments, whatever. But once you were in the system they had you and, providing you did your job properly, there were plenty of opportunities to go forward and succeed and build a life for yourself. Both Rose and Scorpius had come through the coveted internship program straight out of Hogwarts and had managed to establish themselves in their years together as extremely capable despite their young ages. It wasn't easy working in international relations, but they had managed to _make it_, and by the age of 24 no less. That was kind of a big deal (even if no one who didn't work in international relations seemed to care, it _was_). And he was just going to throw it all away? Over some practical joke of his?

Commitment was one thing. Blind stupidity was another.

As she picked up some of the sheets of paper filled with insults and hexes, a very troubling thought came to the forefront of Rose's mind, forcing her to freeze mid-crouch.

_What if he actually believes his own con?_

_What if Scorpius actually, truly believes that they are engaged, and hence leaving was unavoidable?_

No.

Just. No.

Ok, she had always joked about it, but maybe Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was actually mentally insane and had created some alternate reality wherein him and Rose could actually be a couple? And those two separate realities had fractured his mind and now he didn't know which was which and was therefore living out his alternative reality fantasy life in actual reality?

No. That wasn't possible. Scorpius was an overgrown man-child with brat-like tendencies, but insane he was not. This all had to be part of his evil scheme. She just had to figure out how. She would do that later. You know, when she actually had a desk to work at.

As Rose went about putting her things back into some sort of order she couldn't shake a dark feeling at the pit of her stomach or the very slight ache that thrummed from at the very back of her mind. She knew their cause – reasons for doing so aside, Scorpius was leaving. They wouldn't be partners any more. The past week notwithstanding, they had always got on pretty well, and she had enjoyed his company. They worked well together, complemented each other's work styles perfectly, and now she would have to start working with someone else. As much as she tried to repress the voices from that deep dark place of her mind that often spoke without permission, she couldn't fully deny the fact that would miss having him for her partner.

But that didn't mean she wasn't going to kick his ass for putting this bloody ring on her finger. He was still going to pay for that. Just as soon as she figured out what the hell was going on.

* * *

><p>Scorpius lay in a particularly uncomfortable hospital bed, his back mending from having random pieces of wood and splinters removed and his nose thankfully reset. The mediwitch had informed him that it would take a bit of time for all the swelling and bruising to go down, but it should be relatively back to normal in a few days. He had thanked her graciously and just as she was leaving, she turned on her heel and congratulated him on his engagement – she thought that it was just the most romantic thing <em>ever<em> and she wished them all the happiness in the world.

Well at least someone appreciated his efforts.

He had smiled with his newly reconstructed teeth and thanked her, telling her how excited they were about their impending nuptials. (_Impending_; he loved the ambiguity of the term). She had beamed back at him, sighed rather dramatically, and said again just how romantic it all was. She left shortly afterwards, insisting that he get some sleep to recover his strength and let the potions and spells '_do their thing'_. Scorpius thought that was, perhaps, the best idea he'd heard all year.

Just as he was drifting into much-welcomed sleep, a very familiar voice sounded from beside his bed, sending terror through his very being.

"Well, well, well, had a run-in with your beloved, Mr. Malfoy?" Scorpius' eyes snapped open at the sound as he turned (with some difficulty) to look at his visitor, "Or should I call you nephew?"

Ginny Potter (nee Weasley) stood at his bedside, steaming coffee in one hand and arms crossed over her chest. She had a look in her eyes that he did not find comforting at all – that '_I could kill you and hide your body and no one would ever ask questions because I'm Ginny Fucking Potter'_ look. And suddenly, just like that, Scorpius came to recognize the enormity of the situation he had got himself into – not only had he angered Rosie, but he had angered her entire family of war-heroes who defeated the Dark Lord in their teenage years. They had literally saved the entire wizarding world while they went through puberty. And here he sat, temporarily paralyzed in a hospital bed, without his wand and therefore utterly defenseless.

_Oh Fuck._

"Mrs. Potter," he said and gave her the nicest smile he could manage considering he felt like screaming for dear life, "How are you this fine morning?"

* * *

><p><em>Ok so it's not the best chapter and I'm guessing it was a little anti-climactic. But it has stuff in it that needed to be put in. I think. Honestly I have very little direction for how the middle part of this story is gunna pan out, so you're all just gunna have to bear with me. Good news is that I have been writing a conversation between Scorpius and Rose for the next chapter (hopefully) and it's a lot more fun and enthusiastic. Rose gets vocal, Scorpius gets lawyer-y. Its gunna be a blast. And there will be a large section inspired by the song 'Kiss With a Fist' by Florence and the Machine. Yeah, fun times.<em>

_Please review – they truly do make my day _


	8. Chapter 8

_You guys. You guys are awesome. Seriously, everyone who reviewed, favourited, and followed this fic (especially you peeps who have put up with my terrible updating rituals, or lack thereof, since the beginning) has made me smile a little brighter these past few months, and that is very much appreciated. _

_I have a little something to say – I love you all for your reviews and it really does brighten my day to see that people like this story, BUT please do not send me messages or leave comments __demanding__ an update. Some of them have bordered on abusive and it is most unappreciatedMy lack of updates isn't because I'm choosing not to, I'm not updating because life is getting in the way. But this story shall be continued. Until you see the status officially change to 'complete' always believe that there will be more, despite how long it takes me to upload. _

_On a side not – CHAPTER EIGHT! Sweet Holy Spaghetti Monster, this is a beast. And I will say, it's a bit slow and Scorpius is a bit of a dick, but that's just because we have to get this thing back on track and add in some things that may prove to be quite important later on (wink wink). Its frustrating because including them bulks it up and means it takes longer to get to the good stuff, but it also has to be done so it all makes sense eventually. Have faith, it will improve._

_Disclaimer – the characters are not mine. The situations in which they find themselves are._

_Please review _

* * *

><p>Ginny Potter, who was feeling '<em>better than you look, Mr. Malfoy'<em>, did not sit when he offered her a seat beside his bed most politely. Scorpius got the feeling she rather enjoyed towering over him, she probably thought it made her look imposing. Quite foolish really; Ginny Weasley could be the size of his little finger and he'd still be scared shitless.

"Like mother like daughter," she said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that would rival his own. It was confusing as hell (no wonder Rose always complained when he looked at her like that).

"Pardon?"

"Rose beating you up," she nodded to the padding currently stuffed in his nostrils, "Its remarkably reminiscent of when her mum punched your dad."

"_Hermione Weasley punched my dad?!"_

This was perhaps the most incredibly fantastic, _fucking hilarious_ news he had ever heard in his entire life. _Ever_.

"Yep – back in the day when she was still Hermione Granger. Third year of Hogwarts, she got him right in the nose," she raised another eyebrow, this one decidedly more humorous than the last, "He's never mentioned it before?"

"Surprisingly no."

"Surprising indeed."

Well this was some kind of a miracle – he was practically immobile in a hospital bed after a rather bad run in with a very disgruntled Rose, and here was her Aunt (sister of the man he had indirectly caused the hospitalization of, though he would deny it fervently if anyone accused him) joking about his dad being punched in the face by Rose's mum.

And if four men riding horses came trotting past to kindly inform him to say good-bye to his loved ones because the world was about to implode, he would not even be surprised. Not in the least.

There was a silence that encased his room that began as companionable until he realized the smirk Mrs. Potter had been wearing had slowly descended into something else. If he had to compare it to anything, he would say she was looking at him in a pretty similar way to how a vulture would look at a dying buffalo. That look that said '_You are as good as dead, and I'm hungry'_.

Scorpius suddenly found himself prayingthat those four lovely horsemen would show up. Like, _now._

"I didn't mean to intrude on you, Mr. Malfoy," for a blessed moment he thought she was going to leave. He was wrong, "You see noticed you being were here on my way back from my brother's room…"

Scratch that – she wasn't a vulture. She was a lion. And he was a gazelle. A lame gazelle. Tied to a tree. Drizzled with barbeque sauce.

_Merlin let it be quick and merciful._

"You know he's been hospitalized, right?" She asked somewhat rhetorically. Scorpius could only nod in response, his voice apparently abandoning him. Stupid cowardly bastard; running away when the rest of his body couldn't move. Talk about betrayal.

"Yes," she nodded, that same deadly look in her eye, "See, when he saw the photo of you and Rose in The Prophet he, well, had an _accident_."

Scorpius swallowed rather loudly. "I…I'm sorry…?"

"For what?" she asked, smiling now in a way that was totally not reassuring in any way, shape, or form, "Kissing Rose?"

"No," he responded surprisingly confidently, "I don't regret that at all, and I don't believe either of us did anything wrong."

"Then what _would _you be apologizing for?" she quirked her head to the side in a show of mock curiosity before that unsettling smile slid from her face to be replaced with a look of cold, barely repressed anger, "A certain deal made with The Prophet, perhaps?"

Scorpius swallowed loudly again and shook his head the best he could considering all the damage that had been done to it recently.

"No, there…I…" he stuttered like a fool; _thank Merlin no one else was here to witness this, _"I haven't done any sort of deal with The Prophet."

Which was true. Kind of. Mrs. Potter didn't seem impressed nor convinced, her eyes narrowing at him. He suddenly became acutely aware of her wand visibly perched on her hip – _very_ accessible should she decide she needed it. Fuck.

"Then why hasn't a retraction been printed? Rose seemed adamant on getting one published."

His first thought to respond with 'Rose has a very annoying habit of changing her mind,' but then realized that would mean explaining what he meant by that. Which would mean filling her in on certain events that had taken place last month. And if there was one thing he would find more painful than this conversation, it was discussing his sex life with his lover's war-hero aunt. No, best not say anything like that.

"I'm not sure," he lied, hopefully convincingly, "A mistake at the newspaper's end, perhaps?"

She glared at him – _with the power of a thousand suns _– and leant a little closer in a most menacing manner.

"Don't treat me like an idiot, Scorpius," somehow hearing her say his first name just terrified him more, "I'm very good at spotting liars."

"I swear I have not done some deal with The Prophet!" he objected adamantly, successfully keeping most of the desperation he was feeling from filling his voice, "You have my word on that, Mrs. Potter."

It wasn't _technically_ a lie. Still, she looked unconvinced. He gestured weakly to his heavily bandaged body. "It's not like I'm gaining anything from keeping this story in circulation."

Mrs. Potter raised an eyebrow at him once more. Scorpius wished that's all Rose did when she was angry with him; it was most certainly an improvement from a broken nose and teeth. He watched as Mrs. Potter leaned back and took a slow sip of her coffee, apparently relenting for the moment. After several painful moments of silence she spoke again.

"So you and Rose," she let the statement hang in the air between them for a few moments before elaborating, "What's the deal?"

"Pardon?"

"You and Rose," she gestured for him to continue, as if it was obvious what she was asking, "What's your…_relationship status?_"

"Well…" he paused, not entirely sure how he should answer that at the moment, "Well it depends on who you ask."

This time both eyebrows rose and a curious expression broke across her features.

"Well I'm asking you – so according to you, what's the deal?"

Scorpius shifted to make himself more comfortable but only found the new patch of cement he was sure his bed was made of even less accommodating than the last. All the money his family had thrown at St. Mungos over the years and these were the best mattresses they could afford? He made a mental note of using some connections to get better mattresses for all the wards. Notably the ones he was likely to find himself staying in the next few weeks if Rose continued her furious (and some might say, _over-done_) vengeance.

Oh Merlin he was supposed to be answering her question wasn't he? Right. Well. Best get to that.

"I...well for me…that is to say I _thought…_" he sighed and would have run his fingers through his hair if he could find the strength to lift his hands that high; _why had no one in his family ever had feelings? Surely this was some genetic defect he could have fixed_, "I am very fond of your niece, Mrs. Potter. Probably more than I should be. And, regardless of what my current ailments may suggest, we are – or at least were – friends. And, I believed that we were, possibly, in the future, could maybe…be…um…I thought that she…well…"

She put him out of his misery by asking another question.

"And, hypothetically, if I was to ask Rose the same question, what might her answer be?"

He did his best to crack a sad kind of a smile but found he couldn't look her in the eye.

"I'd say, given recent events, that she would say I was the bane of her existence. And would never be anything else."

Scorpius suddenly became aware of a dull ache resonating through his chest that he was, unfortunately, extremely aware of – his heart hurt (_which was pathetic and weak and he would 'take-care-of' anyone who dared suggest he was capable of such a ridiculous sentiment)_. Scorpius momentarily thought that it was ridiculous that of all these damn spells and potions they had given him and not one could cure heartache. Someone should work on that.

Mrs. Potter smiled warmly down at him – it was a mother's smile, one that said 'I'm a nurturing person by nature and feel a little sorry for you, but do anything stupid and I can still kick your ass'. She sighed loudly and set her now empty coffee cup on the table beside his bed

"Here's the thing, Scorpius," she was stern but not enraged; that was a positive sign, "I don't mind you. Before this week I had never heard Rose complain about you or say a bad thing about yourself or your work ethic – she clearly respects you and, judging by that photo, maybe there's something more. I honestly don't know enough about this whole thing to comment. I'm not one for judging people based on whatever reputations their relatives have; the fact that your last name is Malfoy has very little relevance to me. I don't _want _to be against you."

He watched her features grow stern as her voice grew colder. Not good.

"But," she leant in closer to be more intimidating again, "If you have any intention of hurting _any _of my family with this little secret scheme of yours than let me make one thing very clear – I will consider you my enemy. And things didn't end too well for the last person who I considered an enemy that hurt my family. You might have heard of him – his last name began with the letter V. That is what I will do to you if you do _anything _to hurt my niece or any of my loved ones. Do you understand?"

Right, so Ginny Potter would give him 'Voldie' status and therefore exact 'Voldie-level' vengeance on him if he inadvertently hurt her relatives.

Fuck the horsemen, if The Great Almighty wanted to just smite Scorpius right here where he lay right now he probably wouldn't protest – vengeance from Heaven was sure to be a hell of a lot more merciful than vengeance from Ginny Potter.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter," Scorpius' voice was shaky. He decided to blame the spells and potions they'd given him for that, "But please, believe me when I say I have absolutely no intention of hurting Rose."

"Really? Because whatever stunt you pulled that's keeping Rose from setting the story straight with The Prophet would suggest otherwise…"

"That is a…" he chose his words carefully, "_Misunderstanding_."

She didn't look impressed with his defense, raising an unimpressed eyebrow and letting out a heavy kind of breath that told him she didn't believe him.

"Well I suggest you clear it up as soon as possible if you want to keep that pretty face of yours from getting another beating."

She leant back and straightened her blouse, looking very professional and, as always, scary as all hell. She shot him a tightlipped smile and stared him down once more.

"This doesn't need to get ugly Scorpius," she adjusted her hair which was swept up and away from her face, "And I know Rose certainly doesn't want, and by the look of it, doesn't needanyone fighting her battles for her. So, I will do my best to keep myself and my family out of this little _spat _you two are , the _second _I get any inclination that this is causing Rose pain, I will get involved. And I can guarantee you, once myself and the rest of my family gets involved, you will pray for the days that a few chipped teeth, a broken nose and a sore back were the worst of your problems. Do we understand each other?"

Scorpius swallowed embarrassingly loudly – holy hell he was close to crapping himself.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter," he looked her right in the eye and spoke deceptively smoothly for someone as terrified as he was, "But, as I said, the last thing I want in any of this is for Rose to get hurt. I would never wish to cause her pain."

She raised a curious eyebrow, and that strange smirk slid back into place once more.

"And for some unknown reason, I think I believe you," she shot him a look that very nearly caused him to empty his bowels right there, "But I have been known to change my mind."

All he could do in response was nod his head. She smiled once more – that smile that belonged to vultures – before looking at her watch and letting out a heavy sigh.

"Well, things to do, places to be and all that," she took her empty coffee cup and began to leave, "Heal quickly Mr. Malfoy. I daresay you'll need your strength when you and Rose next meet!"

He bid her farewell, watching as the door to the ward swung shut behind her.

Holy Shit. That was the most intense situation he had ever found himself in, and that included the time his Grandfather found him with a Muggle Studies textbook. Perhaps he would have to do something about the whole 'Prophet' business. He tried to shift his body to the side and was simultaneously struck with overwhelming tiredness and an intense pain that ripped through his side where three ribs were trying desperately to grow back the broken bits. _Later_, he decided, _I will handle The Prophet later. After sleep._

Scorpius laid his head back and fell into a much welcomed but definitely not peaceful sleep filled with angry red heads and dancing, bleeding noses. He begged it wasn't a sign of things to come.

* * *

><p>Even though there was absolutely <em>no <em>reason for her to feel the least bit guilty about her actions – _because the turd-munching bastard had it coming goddamit! –_ Rose did feel the tiniest bit bad for beating Scorpius up so severely come Thursday morning. Apparently she had actually broken his nose. And a few teeth. And then there were the shards of wood from her desk he had to have removed from his person. But that part was mainly his fault anyways. So despite her reaction being totally justified and reasonable in every conceivable way, Rose still felt just the tiniest smidgen of guilt for the severity of his injuries.

Her guilt dissipated into a feeling of resounding relief when she read an owl from her mother as she was eating breakfast.

_Rose,_

_Not exactly the proclamation of falsity you were hoping for I'm sure, but at least it's a retraction. Very glad to see things have sorted themselves out. _

_Have a good day at work,_

_Lots of Love,_

_Mum xoxo_

It took Rose a minute to fully comprehend what her mother had just written – _retraction_. Surely that could only mean…

Without another second's hesitation Rose sprinted from her apartment still wearing her dressing gown and slippers, running down the stairs as quickly as she could until she reached the lobby. The lobby with the newspaper stand. She slid to a stop in front of Augustus, the lovely man who had attended this newspaper stand since before Rose moved in three years ago. He smiled at her from behind his very impressive grey beard and bid her good morning.

"Mornin, Miss. Weasley," he said with a smile, "I hear a congratulations are in order."

Rose spotted today's copy of The Prophet, snatched it up and scanned the front page. Nothing. At least the 'Desk photo' didn't make the front page. She flicked angrily through the pages until she came to the society pages. Still no desk photo – HALLELUJAH! But there, tucked away in the corner, was a tiny little square that read:

_The Daily Prophet wishes to retract the statement made in the edition of Saturday, November 1, which stated that Mr. Scorpius Malfoy and Ms. Rose Weasley were engaged. The pair are not engaged. The Daily Prophet extends its apologies to all parties impacted by this claim._

Rose's face almost split in two as she looked up at Augustus, handing him back the paper.

"Yes, today is most definitely cause for celebration," before he could reply she turned and began to run back up to her apartment, calling behind her with an energetic wave over her shoulder, "Have a wonderful day Augustus!"

Today was going to be a good day.

* * *

><p>Rose conceded as she walked into work that she guessed she should thank Scorpius for finally having that ridiculous Anti-Retraction statement lifted. It really was a great relief. Even if it was his stupid fault that the damn thing was even put in place at all, it would be the polite thing to do – show him she was more mature and adult then him and his silly little games he played. Plus he seemed to have done something to stop them running the questionable photo of her on his lap after her desk broke. That was most certainly appreciated. Yep, it was time to be the bigger man and show him that she was thankful and willing to put this whole thing behind them. Maybe they could even remain partners – no one worked better together than they did after all. Plus she didn't want to be stuck with a recently graduated intern who didn't know Austria from Australia.<p>

That thought abandoned her briefly as she approached his office and heard the unmistakable sound of someone giggling. A _female _someone. Seriously?! He went to all this trouble to convince the world that they were engaged, and then continued to flirt with every female he could find? Just typical.

At the sight of the closed door she briefly considered walking away – she didn't need to be publically humiliated by her non-fiancée doing the nasty with some random woman. Then she remembered all the stress he'd put her through these past few days and decided that cock-blocking him was the least she could do to get her own back. And maybe then it would finally convince all her insufferable work colleagues that they really, truly, weren't dating (it was ridiculous how many refused to believe her. Even after attacking him yesterday there were some who were still unconvinced. Knobs).

With her head held high, Rose walked towards the door with her glare already fixed in place. Just as she reached for the door handle, the door swung open rather enthusiastically, startling her. Rose now found herself face to face with the man she had been seeking in all his blonde haired and finely-robed glory. (Rose may or may not have had an embarrassing flashback to Saturday morning when he'd greeted her in much the same manner, sans shirt. She tried her damnedest to shut that vision down before things got too out of control. Stupid filthy conscience.)

Her gaze fell on his eyes, which she noted were much wider than usual. In fact he looked almost…relieved? Like he had been about to face Fluffy the Three Headed Dog, and then in walked Rose with a pretty little music box. It was a face that said '_Thank god you're here – help me before it eats me.'_

'It' as it turns out wasn't a three-headed dog but rather a svelte raven-haired woman who was perched on Scorpius' desk (in a skirt _much _too short to be considered appropriate for work attire). Rose recognized her immediately – the woman with startlingly blue eyes and the cursed shiny straight hair (that made Rose's heart ache to look at) was Miss. Regina Longhorn. She was a junior associate, a perfectly adequate worker, and was always very well presented and polite to all she encountered.

She was also hated by every female employee within the Ministry.

It wasn't because her alluring appearance and ethereal looks drew in any man she set her sights on; it was because the men she set her sights on had a habit of being off-limits. At least to anyone who wasn't Regina. It didn't matter what they looked like or how old they were, if they were married or in a serious relationship or unattainable in some other way, Regina wanted them. And with that waist and those lips, she usually got them too.

So when Rose saw her sitting on Scorpius' desk like some kind of slutty sacrifice, needless to say she was pissed off.

Because Regina was up to her old tricks and pursuing men who were not available. That's all that bothered her.

The fact that Scorpius _wasn't_ actually unavailable because they _weren't _engaged or together or whatever was completely besides the point. The point was that everyone _thought _they were and therefore what Regina was doing was wrong.

Rose wasn't seeing red because she actually liked Scorpius. Not at all. He was a Grade-A pain in her posterior and current bane of her existence – she really didn't care who he entertained in his free time. Not one iota.

But that didn't stop her from wanting to light Regina's hair on fire. And Scorpius' as well. Just for being a dick.

Really! Going after a (as far as she was concerned, if she hadn't already seen The Prophet) newly-engaged man? What a bat-fowling strumpet!

And yes, Rose had been revising her Shakespearean insults. But if Scorpius was going to try and disarm her with The Bard's poetry she could shoot him down with it too. It was called being proactive and she would not be judged for it! (Besides, insulting someone using words like 'flap-dragon' and 'hugger-mugger' was so much more satisfying than simply calling them a whore).

She gave a tight-lipped, completely insincere smile to Regina who returned the sentiment only hers was, much to Rose's enjoyment, considerably more fearful. Rose was distracted once more by Scropius' eyes doing that weird 'warm' thing again as he held his arms out wide and moved to hug her.

"My dear Rosie, how are you this morning?" he must have seen something akin to a scowl cross her face because he refrained from hugging her as was clearly his intention. Instead he just patted her awkwardly on the shoulders and fiddled with his hands in an attempt to keep them busy. If Rose didn't know him better she'd say he looked scared (but not of her?) and possibly even a little desperate. She couldn't imagine why. Peeking behind his shoulder to find Regina pouting at them whilst she pushed up her cleavage, Rose couldn't resist the urge to step closer to Scorpius, placing herself well and truly in his personal space now. She wouldn't touch him lest she catch some abhorrent disease, but she could send a message regardless. And that message said '_Some women will fight back you gorbellied harpy_ (man, Shakespearean insults were fun), _so either put up your dukes or get the hell out of this office'_. But she was just fighting her off on principle. Rose wasn't actually fighting for Scorpiusspecifically – just for her fellow sisters who had had their men stolen by the Reginas of the world. Yeah – fist-pump for sisterhood!

"Don't call me that," she murmured distractedly at Scorpius before smiling tightly at Regina, "Regina! You're in the office very early. Something special on today?"

Regina faulted for a moment, obviously not preparing an excuse for why she had to visit Scorpius lest she be interrupted (amateur). It may have also had something to do with the way Rose was staring her down – her mother had taught her a thing or two about threatening someone with little more than a stare. It had served her well over the last few years.

"I…" the raven-haired girl swallowed and composed herself with a flick of her immaculate hair, "I thought I would help Scorpius sort out his _affairs_, considering he's leaving us."

She actually pouted at him. Fully pouted. Rose should have been given a medal for not losing her breakfast all over the floor. She was about to retort when she felt Scorpius step even closer, now wrapping his arm around her waist. Rose would have scolded him and thrown it off had it not been for the way Regina had blanched when she saw the movement. Instead, Rose just reminded herself to disinfect her clothes when she got home and put on a brave face, doing all that she could to convince the women in front of her that she didn't want to punch the blonde-haired twat in the face.

"Thank you for the offer, Ms. Longhorn," Scorpius grinned much more politely than Rose had, causing Regina to visibly swoon, "But myself and my lovely partner here," he tugged Rose a little closer to him and she subtly elbowed him in response, "Are more than capable of sorting out my things."

Regina gave Rose the once over and let out a sigh that was heavy with disappointment as she dismounted the desk. She sauntered past, visibly avoiding eye contact with Rose. Regina crossed the threshold and turned as if she was on a catwalk, hip jutted out and hand on her waist. She gave Scorpius a coy little wave and may or may not have winked (_right in front of Rose. What a beef-witted pignut_). He didn't return it, simply unwrapping himself from Rose to shut the door in the girl's face. Which was good because it kept Regina out. Not so great because it kept Rose in.

Just as Rose was going to berate him about something (the specifics were hazy but she figured that she could just roll with whatever came out of her mouth first), Scorpius let out a relieved sigh and a muttered, "Thank Merlin." Well, that was strange. What was stranger was the prompt kiss he planted on her head before walking back to his desk before she could punch him.

"You, Rose Weasley, are a goddess," he said emphatically as he collapsed into his chair, cringing when he landed. He readjusted himself to relieve the ache before continuing, "Sent straight from the heavens to save me from the evils of unrequited lust. I could kiss you."

"You do and I'll make sure you pay St. Mungos another visit. And what on Earth are you talking about?" she snapped, walking further into his office, still glaring a little. He gestured towards the closed door with a look of disgust screwing up his face and distorting his features.

"Longhorn the Harpy," he said with a look much like that of a five year old that had to take some rather disgusting medicine, "It appears she's pursuing me. It's scary."

"Oh yes, and I'm sure you've been denying her affections fervently," she spat the words, an anger rising in her that was ugly and confusing. She couldn't explain it (and even if she could she refused to do so), but there was something about the whole encounter that left a fowl taste in her mouth.

Scorpius smiled with that odd _warm_ look again that made the parts of Rose's brain that were stupid swoon incessantly. The logical bits of her brain banished them to the shadows once more and threatened to kill them with fire. They stopped swooning. His features settled into their trademark smirk.

"Green's a good colour on you, love," he murmured

"What?" she snapped but he simply smirked and shrugged.

"Nothing dear."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Ok honey bun."

"_No_," she pointed a finger at him in a manner that would suggest she was capable of shooting flames out of it, "Enough with the pet names."

"Not even Schmoopsie Poo?" Oh the man was a fearless bastard. That or just incredibly idiotic. Actually, now that Rose thought about it, it was probably the second option. She scowled at him and pointed at him menacingly once more.

"You ever call me that and I will end you."

He threw his head back and laughed melodiously (which was damn annoying because he shouldn't be able to look or sound attractive when she was still angry at him) before turning to face her.

"Not that I'm not thoroughly enjoying your company, love," Rose opened her mouth to berate him but he continued quickly, "but was there a specific reason for you gracing my presence this lovely Thursday morning?"

"_Don't call me love._"

"Sorry Rosie."

She threw her arms in the air and let out a growl of frustration.

"Why must you make everything so difficult?! "Rose exclaimed, sounding more tired than angry, "Why can't you just – for once in your life – not make a conscious effort to make my life more difficult?"

He just smiled and shrugged.

"In my defense most of it isn't conscious – I'm just naturally gifted it would appear."

"I prefer to think of it as a person defect."

He laughed loudly with genuine mirth in his eyes.

"Touché Rosie! Touché," he pretended to dip his hat to her before clapping his hands together, "So, what is it that has brought you to seek my counsel on this pleasant Thursday? Or did you simply detect your beloved in distress and sought to protect me?"

"You are not my beloved."

"Not yet."

"Not ever."

He simply hummed in response and smirked at her. She wanted to slap that look right off his stupid face but then remembered that she was supposed to be proving she was a bigger person and above all this bullshit. She'd be nice.

Well it would probably be more 'civil' than 'nice'.

Ok, so she would do her best not to physically maim him. That was pretty much the same as being nice right?

Rose cleared her throat and took a deep breath. She could do this. She could do this.

"Well I came in here to thank you for fixing up all that business with The Prophet and getting them to print a retraction," she crossed her arms and picked at her fingernails, trying to pass it off as nonchalantly as possible, "Even though it was you fault in the first place. You and your damn Anti-Retraction Statement."

The shit-eating grin that spread across his features wasn't alluring in the slightest. He just looked like a conceited ass. Because that's exactly what he was.

"Ah yes! The '_Anti-Retraction Statement'_," she didn't like the weird sarcastic emphasis he used, "Yes well that was nothing. Really."

"Well thanks all the same." She added a shrug just to ensure he didn't realize how relieved she was by the whole thing.

"No seriously," he reiterated, "It was literally nothing. I'm surprised you didn't sort it out yourself."

"Well that was a little difficult, considering _you _were the one who put it in place."

Scorpius' face fell as he stared at her blankly.

"No," he muttered, almost to himself, "You can't not know."

"Not know what?" She faced him and took another step closer to his desk to be imposing, arms still crossed defiantly.

"The statement. With the Prophet," he looked at her like she was being particularly slow. She didn't like it, "It was all fake."

What. Le. Fuck.

"_What?!_"

Scorpius continued to look at her like she was daft.

"The Anti-Retraction Statement – it doesn't exist. The whole thing was made-up."

For a split second the only bodily function Rose was able to perform was an abnormal twitch in her right eye.

"Are you serious?!" she finally managed to force out through gritted teeth.

"Of course!" Scorpius was apparently not aware that he should have been apologizing profusely and begging for his life. Instead he tidied some paperwork that Regina had put out of place with her _derriere_ as he continued in a tone that suggested he was thoroughly amused by the whole situation, "I mean really – an _Anti-retraction Statement_? And for an article that explicitly stated your name and described a relationship you may or may not be in? Of course its bullshit! How in the name of Merlin would that _ever _be legally binding?"

He stopped sorting through his papers and looked at her with disbelief and much too much amusement for his safety.

"Don't tell me you didn't read through the contract yourself," at her silence he tsked and shook his head condescendingly. His nose suddenly seemed in dire need of another punch, "Rosie, Rosie, Rosie! We write up contracts _for a living_. How did you not ask to see it?"

Ok. So when he said it like that then it made her sound like an incompetent idiot. But she had been so confused and angry and surprised and tired that she hadn't thought of it at the time. Or any of the days between then and now. Ok, so it looked bad. Rose looked bad. _BUT IT WAS STILL ALL HIS FAULT FOR BEING SUCH A TURD-MUNCHING ASSHOLE AND SHE WOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO READ THROUGH ANY DAMN CONTRACT IF HE HADN'T MADE IT UP IN THE FIRST PLACE!_

Ok. So she needed to breathe so she didn't burst a blood vessel.

"Don't you dare turn this back on me! This is still all your fault!" Rose tried to ignore the voice in her head that agreed with him and thought she was an idiot, "And does this mean that you fabricated official documents? Because that is a criminal offense."

Scorpius gave her a look as he scoffed at the notion. "Oh please. If Cuffe had bothered to have his legal team come in and assess the parchments, or even read the damn thing himself," she didn't like how he glanced sideways at her when he said that, "He would have come across the very big paragraph which outlines the document's fallaciousness and the very explicit statement that says it is in no way an attempt to fabricate legal documents or repress an individual's right to free speech, but rather to play a practical joke. I even signed it."

So really Cuffe was almost as much to blame as Scorpius. Her hit list was growing. She had to shake her head to clear it of all those thousands of hexes she had learnt over the weekend to cause as much pain as possible without breaking any really important laws.

Master of douche-baggery turned back to her, pleased with how he had rearranged his impeccably neat piles of extremely ordered papers, and continued.

"Also, given that an Anti-retraction Statement _isn't_ an actual document because it doesn't exist in the first place, I haven't committed any crime. I merely presented Mr. Cuffe with a very large, very official-_looking _parchment – I even stated that he should peruse it at his own discretion and decide the best course of action. I am completely unaccountable for the fact that he only read the opening paragraph rather than the document in its entirety."

It became clear to Rose in that moment that it was entirely likely that Scorpius Malfoy had a death wish. Or maybe he was just really, really, _really_ stupid. He had the audacity to actually try to charm and bullshit his way out of this with all this technicality crap that he usually baffled their clients with. It was usually something Rose admired about him – his elegant charm combined with his deceptive whit that made their clients consider what he said to be gospel. It truly was a thing to behold.

He seemed to have forgotten, however, that Rose was no push over client that could be dazzled by a smile and bewildered by technicalities. She had worked beside him – she had witnessed this first hand. And there was no way in hell he was going to weasel his way out of this.

"Let me get this straight," Rose shifted her weight and jutted out her hip, presenting a picture of defiance and attitude, "You dressed up an old man in expensive robes-"

"Expensive and _boring _robes – like a true member of the Wizenmagot," he flashed her a smile that she told her heart didn't make it flutter – that momentary palpitation was just the cause of something minor. Maybe a clotted artery. She should have that looked at by a Healer, "I aim for authenticity."

"But not sincerity," she shot back.

He shrugged. "Not in this instance."

"You made-up a document which authorized the repression of an individual's basic human rights – _my _rights," she practically growled the last two words. He seemed unphased, interrupting her as he began rifling through paperwork. Apparently her argument wasn't worth his attention. Ass.

"No, no, they were simply made to _look_ like they did," he glanced at her sideways as he continued to peruse his papers, "Also, I feel like '_made-up'_ should be considered pretty important in this equation."

She continued, undeterred. "You then presented said documents to the Editor of The Daily Prophet, fully intending him to just jump to conclusions and go through with said repression of my rights."

"There is absolutely no proof that that was my intention," he had that smug grin on his face that he always did when they argued. What an artless bum-bailey!, "In fact the inclusion of the paragraph stating it was a practical joke is evidence to the contrary."

She chose to ignore that.

"And afterwards you gave him a fake love-letter which used lines from a muggle poet, without authorization I'm guessing, and seeing as it has now been published in a public forum and you have taken credit for it, you _have _committed a crime." She had him on toast. _On toast_.

So why did he look so damn happy.

Really. He was outright smiling at her.

The nerve of the man!

He stood – with a certain amount of difficulty that totally did not make her feel bad for him in any way – and walked around his desk to stand before her. "Firstly, who said anything about the love-letter being fake – maybe I was genuinely declaring my love for you?"

She scoffed. "I think this entire scheme is a declaration of the love you have for yourself."

"You wound me," he placed his hands over her heart (or whatever contraption he had locked in his chest cavity to pump his blood around) dramatically.

"You disgust me," she fired back.

"Ouch," he actually looked a bit wounded, but brushed it off and continued, pacing leisurely around his office, "Well, secondly, The Bard – yes, I know his nickname, try not to faint at my brilliance – is public domain and therefore I'm allowed the use of such words for individual creative expression. Surely I am not the first man in the world to use good ole Will's words to woo a woman. Thirdly, the letter was published entirely without my consent or knowledge – I could rewrite an entire volume of _Hogwarts: A History_ for my own enjoyment at home and I'm not committing any crime. If someone then breaks into my house, steals my copied version, and publishes it without my consent or the original author's with _my _name attached to it, I am not accountable, which is the case with this letter. So really, none of this is my fault."

Rose spluttered very unattractively for several moments before finally finding her words. "_Not your fault?!_ You _gave _them the letter and the documents!"

He simply shrugged in response as he leant against the edge of his desk. "You can take a horse to water, but you can't take the mountain to Mohhamed."

Well that made zero sense. "What?"

"It's an…expression?" he looked doubtful for the first time possibly ever.

"No, it's two expressions you've merged together, dumbass."

Scorpius' face dropped and he scratched his head in confusion. Rose refused to find it humorous on the basis that she was furious.

"Well what happens when you take the horse to water then?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Rose let out a heavy sigh. She could not believe she was having this conversation. "You can take a horse to water but you can't make it drink."

"Ah! Yes! That's what I meant. _Can't make it drink_."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"But you just told me that's what it is."

"I mean it doesn't make sense in this situation."

"Yes it does. I led the horse – which, in this case, is The Prophet – to water – being the documents – but I didn't make them drink – believe them – because I never said they were genuine. Hence, horse, water, drinking. It is completely appropriate."

He looked ridiculously proud of himself.

Rosie simply stared at him blankly, "That really isn't how that saying works."

"Well I'm reworking it then."

Rose decided, for the sake of what little was left of her sanity after the past week, that she best just let it be and get back to yelling at him over the Anti-Retraction Statement situation.

"Well, using your totally bogus example, you still screwed up, because 'The Horse' did drink. It drank the whole fucking water supply."

"Not my fault the horse was thirsty," he looked much too pleased with himself. Rose was sorely tempted to punch him again, "I simply led it to the river; it was it's own decision to consume such a momentous amount of fluid."

"So you're pleading innocence based on the fact that, _technically_, The Daily Prophet refused to print my side of the story, even though they only did that because of a fake document you presented to them?" she asked incredulously.

"Yep."

"That is just…so…." Her magnificent vocabulary failed her for several long moments, leaving her to finally settle on, "_Slytherin_."

That only seemed to make him proud. Scorpius beamed and leant a little closer to her. "To the core, love."

"I am…" she spluttered. Again. Stupid bastard of a vocabulary, "I can't even describe how angry I am right now."

"Not with me I hope."

"Of course with you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air wildly, "_You engineered this whole thing!_"

"And then un-engineered it – you seem to be forgetting that bit. Just view it as a test of The Prophet's editorial staff which they failed horribly."

"No. I'm viewing it as you using charm and lies to get what you want."

His eyes darkened and his voice lowered.

"No, if I got what I wanted then we would have used your desk for something very different yesterday."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Do _not _try to turn this into innuendo Scorpius – I am in _no _mood."

"But you're so sexy when you're angry."

"Then I'm about to become bloody irresistible."

"I really don't understand – you got what you wanted, The Prophet have told everyone we're no longer engaged."

"Yes but no one believes it!"

"That's not my problem – I sorted out The Prophet."

Just when she was about to say something in response, the door to his office burst open to let in a speedy inner-office memo in the shape of a paper plane. It landed in Rose's hair, tried to flail and flutter its way out, making itself more trapped, before realizing all hope was lost and just settling under a mass of her knotted curls. Scorpius did his best not to outright laugh at her. Rose made a mental note to punch him for it later. She grumbled to herself as she retrieved the memo, pulling her hair this way and that angrily until the blasted piece of paper was finally free.

And now her hair was more of a mess than usual. Just what she needed today.

Rose read the note as Scorpius waited patiently.

"Meeting in the Conference Room," she muttered before throwing the piece of paper on the floor, just to piss Mr. Neat Freak off. He glared at her for a moment – to which she simply smiled widely – before levitating the offending piece of parchment into the bin.

"Then I suggest we get going," he said as he strode rather stiffly out of his office. Rose was left to follow, hot on his heels, not yet done in her tirade. It wasn't until she saw some of the looks people were giving them that she realized what they all would have witnessed – Rose Weasley coming out of Scorpius Malfoy's office with a flushed face and hair a greater mess than usual. Just great. Not suspicious at all.

Fanfuckingtastic.

She didn't have to run to catch up to him – with the injuries he sustained yesterday he was walking a bit slower and with less grace than usual. Rose refused to feel guilty about it.

She couldn't keep quiet, the constant nagging in her head refusing to give her peace until she finally blurted out, "I just don't understand _why_?"

Scorpius was understandably confused by the question.

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?!" she stressed emphatically, "Why are you making everything so goddam difficult?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" he shot her a grin over his shoulder, "I'm wooing you, love."

Rose gaped, "_Wooing _me?"

"Aye. It means I am pursuing your hand…"

"I know what wooing means!" she snapped and had she not been walking she would have stomped her foot too. She took a deep breath to calm herself down, "What I was questioning was why on earth you are trying to 'woo' me. I have already told you nothingis going on between us and nothing ever will."

"Nothing? Really?" he looked rather pleased with himself again. She had a sudden urge to make him vomit slugs, "Because if I remember correctly, I do believe you kissed me at the Gala."

"No, _you _kissed _me!_" she ground out through gritted teeth as she came to walk beside him. He just continued to smile at her sideways.

"Yes but you kissed me _back_ – that still counts!"

Rose grumbled to herself and let an expletive or two fly under her breath. She glared at him sideways and used every ounce of self control she had not to smack him across the back of his big fat stupid blonde head.

"If this is your way of wooing a woman, it needs a lot of work," she grumbled under her breath, not sure if she wanted him to hear her. He did.

He shot another smile (like it was a freaking weapon against all females) and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"If you feel like giving me the proper tutorage I am more than happy to comply."

"Oh no," she shook her head as they made their way through the cubicles and to the corridor leading to the Conference Room, "Just because you weaseled your way out of The Prophet thing with some massive bullshit technicality nonsense does _not _mean you get to start flirting with me! This is still _your _fault which means I still get to hate you."

He did that damn smirk again and if there had not been witnesses Rose would have slapped it right off his face. "Hate is such a strong, hurtful word."

"I know – that's why I used it."

"Oh come on," he held a door open for her and she really hated it because he was being chivalrous and assholes were not supposed to be chivalrous. He continued, "Like there hasn't been certain advantages to having everyone thinking we're engaged."

"My father is in hospital and my mother thinks I'm incapable of keeping control of my own life!" she whispered at him as angrily as she could as they passed the senior offices.

"Yes, and how is dear Mrs. Bashandi?" she could _hear _him smirking behind her, "I hear you and her had a good chat, along with her European friends."

Rose stopped in her tracks before spinning almost violently to face him.

"What?"

"Lovliest Neffie," that shit-eating grin was back. She hadn't missed it, "She has always been quite fond of me, floos often. She mentioned that you and her had a little meeting with her very powerful friends. How did it go, Rosie?"

"Oh no. You are not going to dare suggest that faking a relationship with you is actually to help me with work."

He shrugged and moved past her, leaving her to follow him angrily. "No, I'm merely pointing out that certain opportunities that weren't available to you beforehand are now, all because of that little ring on your finger. Where it really does look dashing."

"_Dashing_?" she scoffed, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were from the 1800s."

He paused to face her, "Dashing is a legitimate compliment."

"Oh really?" Rose crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow, "And would you be happy if someone called your robes '_dashing_?"

"Yes. Because they are," he straightened his robes and turned his nose up at her, "I endeavor to look dashing everyday."

"Jolly good old chap!"

His face dropped and he continued towards the Conference Room, "Now you're just being silly."

"You have no right to comment on other people's silliness," the tight space forced her to walk behind him lest someone come the other way, but she got as close to his back as possible to appear menacing, "Not after all the crap you've pulled."

"I've hardly been silly. Cunning? Yes. But silly? I don't think so."

"Ha!" she jumped around to be in front of him and pointed at him accusingly, "So you admit you've been cunning and deceitful!"

He looked at her like she was daft again. "I thought that was pretty clearly implied by the Slytherin comment?"

"You really don't regret any of this do you?"

"Yes."

They came to a stop outside of the Conference Room doors which where, thankfully, closed. Rose looked up at him and crossed her arms.

"Yes you don't, or yes you do?" she asked, anger still lacing her tone.

His eyes were growing dark again and she didn't like it in the slightest. "Yes, there are things I regret."

"Like?"

He moved in so close she could feel his breath on her lips. She wondered why she wasn't kneeing him in his nether regions. Perhaps her knees were asleep….

"I regret pretending to be asleep that morning you snuck out of my room," he whispered it barely loud enough for her to hear, but hear she did, "I should have dragged you back to bed and made love to you for hours. I should have made sure you would feel me on you for days."

She refused to move away to avoid appearing weak or scared. Because she wasn't. Her heart was just doing that weird palpitation thing again. Definitely needed to get that checked out.

"We didn't _make love_. We screwed – end of story," she bit out with possibly more malice than she really meant.

"Oh no Rosie," he smiled at her and she didn't miss the way his gaze dropped to her lips. "This is only the beginning."

The air suddenly seemed heavier and she was sure she felt him pulling her towards him again. "Don't touch me."

"I'm not."

He really wasn't. His close proximity just felt like a physical caress.

Ok, if she ever thought anything like that again she may just Avada herself.

He seemed to consider his words for a moment before speaking

"But I'd very much like to, if you'd let me" his voice was low and the arrogance had fled from his words. He sounded apprehensive, almost as if he were pleading. It was most confusing.

Before she could respond – either verbally or with her knee – the door to the Conference Room opened to reveal Arrabella Argenforg who looked startled at their presence. She looked between them – noticing the very small distance separating them – and smiled widely.

"Morning, lovebirds."

"We're not -!" Rose begun before Scorpius cut her off, gesturing for Arrabella to move past them and thus destroying the little bubble they had found themselves stuck in (thank the Almighty!).

"Morning Arrabella!" he beamed at the petite brunette widely, "How's Collyflop doing these days?"

Rose knew that Collyflop was Arrabella's cat. She knew that because her and Arrabella conversed on a semi-regular basis (Arrabella was a truly genuine person, if not a little odd, and was one of the few work colleagues that Rose could honestly say she thoroughly enjoyed spending time with). The question was, how the hell did Scorpius Malfoy know that Arrabella Argenforg have a cat called Collyflop?

Arrabella's heavy sigh as she moved past them brought Rose's attention back to the current moment.

"Not great unfortunately. He ate another pot plant yesterday."

"Your cat eats pot plants?" Rose asked, not knowing whether to be worried or impressed. Arrabella nodded solemnly.

"Yup. The stupid twat gets infatuated by the flowers and just kind of...", she gestured with her hands erratically a bit before simply saying, "Eats it."

Rose didn't have anything she could say to that. Scorpius simply hummed speculatively and nodded.

"And those potions didn't work?" he questioned. Arrabella shook her head and shrugged.

"Oh well. Guess I'm just not meant to have pot plants," she smiled kindly at them, "Probably a good thing. I'd probably just end up killing them anyways."

Arrabella looked in at the quickly filling Conference Room and nodded in its direction.

"You two better get in there," she smiled devilishly at them both as she moved down the hall, "That is as long as you lovers have finished _chatting_."

Rose opened her mouth to retort but then realized that yelling so close to senior offices was probably not going to win her any friends. She just huffed at the self-indulgent look on Scorpius' face as he opened the door for her. Again.

She glared at him and whispered angrily as she passed him, "We have not finished discussing this! This isn't over."

"I told you before Rosie," he smiled deviously and winked at her, "This is just the beginning."

"That's where you're wrong," she leant in close and whispered through gritted teeth, "If this ring isn't off my finger by the end of today, I am officially declaring war, Malfoy. And I will end you."

He simply smirked at her again and whispered, "Bring it on, _Schmoopsie Poo._"

Rose decided that if Scorpius Malfoy didn't have a death wish already, he certainly would by the end of tomorrow. She would make sure of it.

* * *

><p><em>Holy Crap. That was Chapter 8. I have never written anything this long in chronological order before. It's a struggle. Also, I know that Scorpius seems to be acting like a bit of a douche lately but I promise he is going to redeem himself and get better. I just have to get through the 'Rose is really angry at him and wants to burn him with fire' part before that happens. So stick with it – he will become a nicer person, promise. <em>

_Anywho, please let me know what you think – I would love you forever if you did _


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